


There and Back Again

by RobinStories



Category: Batman (1966), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Consensual Violence, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prostitution, Underage Drinking, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2020-12-07 11:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinStories/pseuds/RobinStories
Summary: Dick Grayson was orphaned at 10, at a home for boys until 13, then on the streets.Eventually he's found by Batman and taken in.He joins him to rid the streets of crime, but what was past can never be forgotten.





	1. Things Past

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE WARNINGS!
> 
> This story is an alternate universe and nothing contained within it is condoned by the author. There will be lots of underage in this, so if it's not your thing, don't read it. 
> 
> The story will develop over time so please be patient with me.
> 
> Comments are always welcome.

Dick's eyes were closed as he waited for it. He could hear the man panting, grunting, groaning. Dick just hoped he didn't have a heart attack. Once that almost happened and Dick dialed 911, leaving the phone off the hook as he ran for it. He sometimes wondered whatever happened to that guy. As Dick was lost in thought, he came rushing back as he was it in the face with a hot, sticky mess. He grimaced a bit, shutting his eyes tightly. He made the moans he knew the men liked to hear. The remnants dripped onto Dick's bare chest, mingling with his own that was splattered there, on his abs, and around his soft cock. 

Dick wiped the man's essence off from around his eyes before opening them, exposing his bright blues once again. The man had already climbed off the bed and was beginning to dress himself. Dick watched as the old man, probably in his late 50's or early 60's, balding and overweight, dressed in his business suit. He smacked the trousers and shirt, trying to make them seem less wrinkled. He'd stripped in haste after removing Dick's clothes. This was one of those that liked to service. He had stripped Dick entirely first, exploring the boy's body while still clothed himself. Then he'd ordered Dick onto the hotel bed and hurriedly joined Dick in his nakedness. After he'd spent a good while fucking Dick, he pushed Dick's hands away from his cock (who'd been stroking as the man fucked him) and finished him off. Then he straddled the teenager and finished on Dick's face. 

It was a familiar scenario for the 15-year-old prostitute. The man finished getting dressed, sliding his belt through the buckle and securing it. He grabbed his suit jacket and looked at Dick's naked body. Dick forced a smile as the man almost drooled. 

"Money's on the table. You were amazing. The room is yours until tomorrow morning. Hopefully I'll see you again soon," he said, blowing Dick a kiss. Dick pretended to catch it and put it on his soft package. The man smirked in appreciation of the gesture. He left the room and as soon as Dick heard the door close, he sprang out of bed.

He went first to the table. The wad of bills had been wedged under the lamp. Dick counted carefully until he got to $1000. He took $800 and put it by his discarded clothes. The other 20% was for Laura. Dick didn't always like the split, but he was making more and much safer now with her than he had been before. People pay top dollar for the underage ones, even though Laura doesn't bill him as underage, of course, just in case. But everyone knew. They always knew. 

Dick walked over to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He loved it when he got to keep the room all to himself. It reminded him of days long past when he and his family were making it big with the circus. The specialty acts got top dollar and hotel rooms like this were common for the Flying Graysons. Dick let the warm water cascade over his body before he started scrubbing himself off. He covered his face with soap, lots of soap, making sure to remove all traces of his client. He ran the bar down and over his smooth chest, making small circles over his pecs before trailing down over his six pack. It wasn't very well defined, but you could count all six and clients loved that. He then generously scrubbed his pubic area. It was always easier to clean up before he started to grow pubic hair. He'd thought about shaving, but Laura told him that would set off too many alarm bells for some of the clients. 

Dick's luck was that he could pass for 18 in a pinch. He was good-sized for his age: about 5'10, 140 pounds of mostly muscle. He always worked out when he could, and even though he wasn't huge, he could usually deal with most of his clients who were older, fatter, and slower. He had hair growing in all of the usual places: under his arms, around his cock, and the hair on his lower legs was slowly beginning to darken. Luckily no facial hair. That would really mean he'd have to shave. That was something he assumed fathers taught to their sons. He guessed he'd have to learn on his own. 

Dick was 10 years old when the cables snapped for his parents and older brother. They were sabotaged, he later learned, by someone angry at the circus. Dick had never learned the identity of the saboteur, and if he ever did, he'd kill him. Or her. Dick wanted to stay with the circus, but the state would never have allowed a 10-year-old to live with the circus. He was taken to the Gotham Home for Boys, a wretched hell hole if there ever was one. It was filled with criminals, orphans, and everyone in between. 

It was there that Dick learned his true nature. The older boys always preyed on the younger ones. It was their ability for sexual release. The younger boys who didn't need it because they hadn't hit puberty yet were just the receivers. Dick's second night was the first night of the rest of his life. The older boy, 16, had gagged Dick and had his way with him. All Dick could remember was pain, tears, and confusion. But the number of times increased, and as they did, Dick stopped hating it. In fact, he began to look forward to it. While most of the other boys always resisted, Dick began to seek out boys himself. By the time he was 13, he was an expert in everything a 13-year-old should probably never know. 

One night, Dick decided to try the other side of things. He snuck into a new arrival's room, an 11-year-old orphan just brought in. However, Dick wasn't prepared. The boy began screaming bloody murder which meant that Dick needed to silence him somehow. They were caught and Dick was kicked out of the home. He managed to escape during the transfer from the home to Juvenile Hall. His acrobatic skills gave him flexibility and mobility. However, Dick then found himself alone on the streets of Gotham with only one pliable trade. 

It didn't take long for him to find out where and when he needed to be if he wanted to make a buck. There was an old abandoned elementary school near downtown that had a working playground still, which is generous to say. In reality, it was a deathtrap so it was avoided by normal kids. The only kids that did hang out there were kids looking to turn a trick. And those who wanted to pay knew where to go. Dick was cautious at first, trying to figure out exactly how to go about it. At first he assumed that he'd just get paid no matter what, but it only took one time of being jilted that he knew to get paid beforehand, at least a little. 

He got to know a few of the others that were usuals in the playground. They told him who to avoid, what to look out for, and never to agree to have an "agent". Those were the traffickers who promised to organize business but in reality kidnapped the kids and sold them overseas. Dick understood this reality when many of the kids would simply disappear. 

When Dick was 14, almost 15, he picked up a man at the playground that would inadvertently change his life. The man was a sweet-talker, lulling an already suspicious Dick into calm. In reality, the man was a sadist. He was bigger and stronger than Dick and it wasn't close. The man put Dick into bondage, using whips, clamps, and dildos. It seemed all he wanted was to hear Dick scream, and he wasn't disappointed. Dick mercifully passed out while the man was fucking him as Dick hung upside down. When he awoke, he was at the playground, wearing only a pair of boxers that were torn. A wad of cash was wedged into his dry mouth. Dick never returned.

The crappy hovel Dick had managed to secure with his measly earnings during that time was his only refuge. He returned there with a black eye and a bloody nose, his smooth body covered in marks and bruises. Dick looked at his body in the mirror and knew he needed something different. After he'd healed up, he began to frequent other places, asking discreet questions about agencies. Most that he was given was information he already had: pimps and bosses who were exploiters. However, one day he overheard two men talking about "Laura" and her service being the very best. It took two blowjobs for them to give Dick Laura's contact information. 

Laura asked Dick to come to her penthouse apartment for the interview. That sounded good in itself. Dick combed and neatly parted his hair, put on his oxford shirt and slacks with a clip-on tie (his schoolboy outfit) and headed over so as not to draw attention. Laura greeted him at the door with a broad smile. She was in her mid-thirties with a trim body that was dressed smartly and very business-like. She beckoned him inside her apartment as she shut the door behind him. 

"Well, Dick, you clean up nicely. Or do you prefer Richard?" she asked.

"Dick is fine," he replied, gazing around the apartment. 

"And you're interested in becoming one of my employees?" she asked, sitting down on a sofa and inviting him to sit in the chair opposite. 

"That's right," Dick said, focusing his eyes on her as he sat. 

"And you're aware of the services my company provides?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am. I'm looking for a safer way to do what I've been doing for over a year," he said, folding his hands in his lap. 

"I see. Well we can help with that. I have a very exclusive clientele and there's a vetting process. I don't like any surprises. How old are you?" she asked casually.

"18," Dick said quickly.

"Are you really?" she asked again, still cheerful.

"Do you really want to know?" Dick asked with a raised eyebrow of his own.

"No. I'm assuming no parents?"

"Dead. I'm alone and my own boss," Dick said flatly.

"Very well. We'll need to get you an ID. Some clients demand it. I'll make up an address and all that. What'll be important for them is the date of birth," she said, making a note on a note pad. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to take off your clothes so I can make some notes?"

Dick didn't even flinch or hesitate which she also made a note of. He unbuttoned his oxford shirt and pulled it off, laying it on the chair. He kicked off his loafers and pulled off his socks. Then he unbuckled the belt and pulled the pants down and off with the belt still on them. Finally he slid off his boxer shorts and stood naked in front of this stranger, something he'd done countless times before. His arms were at his side and he looked forward at her. She smiled broadly and stood up, her notepad in hand. 

She muttered to herself as she circled Dick's body and made notes. 

"Smooth torso, slightly defined pectorals and abdominals. Legs are mostly smooth, with good tight muscle underneath," she said, pinching the front and back of Dick's thighs. "Feet are groomed and cared for, as are the fingernails and hands. Please raise your arms up," she asked politely. Dick raised his arms straight out to the sides as she ran her hands over the smooth muscle, muttering and making notes. 

"Open your mouth please," she said, gazing in at his teeth. She knelt down and cupped his smooth balls, making a note. Dick was now half-hard as she felt him up. She ran her finger under his cock and coaxed it into full mast. "Five inches," she said, writing. "Now please bend over and spread your cheeks."

Dick complied as she examined his hole. 

"Not a virgin, but who really is anymore," she said softly. "Still tightness, good recovery probably," she said. "Thank you, you may stand up straight."

Dick straightened up. His cock began to soften as she sat down. He didn't move.

"Men or women or both?" she asked. 

"I prefer men," Dick replied. 

"Anything you absolutely won't do?" she asked.

"I don't like bondage unless I can get myself out of it," he replied.

"Oh yes, of course. We don't allow them to force you to do anything," she said, writing down something. "Now, please jerk yourself off for me. I need to see what you can do," she said, leaning back. 

Dick proceeded to close his eyes and stroke his cock back to hardness. He slowly jerked himself for this person in her apartment for several minutes before his abs tensed and he blew a load onto the carpet. He looked nervously at her, not sure if he should've caught it or not. She just smiled. 

"Well done. I'm going to say this honestly, Dick, you're going to be in high demand. This is a burner phone that I'll use to contact you with the times and locations of your appointments. I keep 20% of what you make, no exceptions. But believe me, you'll be making more money than you'll know what to do with. When I call you, you must answer. You must go where I tell you to go. If you're sick, or need to heal or rest up, you need to call the number that is the only number on the speed dial. Someone will answer and you give them your name and say how long you need to rest. Do you understand?"

Dick nodded as he took the phone from her. 

"Good, now you may get dressed. My cut is dropped at a PO Box. You'll get the number texted to the phone with your first appointment."

Dick left the apartment with a smile on his face. The next year was filled with multiple encounters, each of them odd and weird, but none like before. The clients were well-spoken, rich, and kind, for the most part. Apparently Dick was billed as "barely legal" based on a few comments. It wasn't long before he could move into a nicer apartment. He only took time off once, and that was after a particularly large client who had made Dick feel like he was being split in half. He needed a few days after that, but Laura was making so much from him that she didn't mind. 

Dick turned off the shower and dried off, getting dressed and leaving the hotel. It was almost midnight when he dropped off the 20% at the PO Box. He fell into bed in his apartment and fell asleep immediately. Maybe there was a better life out there, but for now, he was content. 


	2. Light and Darkness

Dick's blue eyes blinked open as his alarm went off. He fumbled for his phone and hit the button, returning the apartment to blissful silence. Light crept through the shades and Dick knew that he needed to get up. If nothing else, so that he could workout and at least look awake just in case he got an appointment at an earlier time. He lazily rolled out of bed, taking half the sheets with him, but he didn't care. It's not like he ever made his bed anyway. His studio apartment was mostly devoid of furniture. Not because he couldn't afford it, but because he was so rarely there. He was either at the gym or meeting with clients. When he was at home, he wanted a chair, a tv, and a bed. That was about it. 

His bare feet padded along the soft carpet from the bedroom into the kitchen. Dick wore only a pair of green boxer shorts. He really liked the color green. It was the color of money. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, chugging it down and getting himself hydrated. He then peeled a banana and ate it while simultaneously unwrapping a protein bar. When he had finished both, he dropped to the floor for his pushups and sit-ups. He then moved to his pull-up bar, making sure to get in his morning reps, although it was almost noon. 

When he was finished he pulled on some gym clothes and headed downstairs. His apartment was small but pricey. The reason for that was the 24 hour gym on site. Laura had recommended the building to him, figuring that he could keep to himself within the building while staying in shape. She liked her employees to remain in top shape. Dick's muscles were still developing, but they were outlined because of his smooth skin and little body fat. Dick enjoyed the looks he'd get from the housewives who were always in the gym when he was. Since he lived alone in the building and was here during school hours, they assumed that he was at least over 18. They were all cougars and Dick knew it. That's what was so funny. He really wasn't attracted to them at all, so he could flirt without getting a hard-on. 

He loved teasing them, complimenting them and obliging when they'd ask him to help them with a spot or lift. He knew it was just their way of getting close to him. He'd had his ass pinched and squeezed more times than he could count, and one time a particularly rabid housewife had groped his crotch. He let them let off their sexual steam, to a degree. He'd declined more than one invitation to join them back in their apartments. 

Today, though, there was only one other person in the gym, and it was one of the housewives who actually loved her husband and paid him little attention. That was good because Dick was especially tired for some reason. 

He went through his normal routine for leg day, which he never skipped. His legs were lean but he wanted more definition. His body seemed to have other thoughts, though. The clients always liked his legs. They liked sliding both hands up and down his thighs, squeezing them as they could normally fit their large hands around them. Eventually the other woman left and Dick was left on his own. He really preferred it that way, but so seldom got the place to himself. He made the most of it, doing a few exercises that required equipment normally crowded, before leaving as well. 

He returned to his room and saw his phone buzzing. He panicked as he realized he'd forgotten it. He picked it up and saw that it was a message that had thankfully just arrived. Laura hated it when messages aren't received on time. Dick read through the message. He was to meet the client at the Gotham Continental Hotel at 7pm. Dick loved that hotel. And what made it better was that apparently the client had booked the private bar area. Dick had walked passed it a few times when the door was open. It was a private area with a fully stocked bar that could be either staffed or not. Dick guessed that in this case, it would be just him and the client so as not to draw the attention of whoever would be tending the bar. 

The message also said "business casual". Dick replied with the standard "Y" to acknowledge receipt of the message. Immediately another message came to his phone. 

"$3000", it said. Dick's eyes lit up. $3000 was a huge sum for one night. Dick waited anxiously for the last message after he replied again, but it never came. Dick sighed in relief. The last message always indicated what special kink would be involved or required. When there wasn't a third message, it just meant standard sex. 

Dick wiled away the rest of the afternoon watching TV and snacking so as to fill his stomach a bit. He'd only drank a few times since it was so difficult for him as a 15-year-old to do so. He knew an empty stomach wasn't good. He changed into his "business casual" attire: a white polo shirt, tight-fitting, and khaki slacks, also slim fit. He slipped on a brown belt and ankle socks before slipping on some canvas shoes. Underneath he was wearing his black thong. It was a bit uncomfortable, but he wanted to make sure the high roller was impressed. He always sought to impress the high buyers so they'd be return customers. Making sure his hair was neatly parted, Dick set off for the hotel.

He nodded politely to the bellhop who stood guard at the door. The bellhop was probably older than Dick and yet Dick was bowed to as he walked assuredly into the grand hotel. The ceilings in the lobby were high and ornate. The hotel was the favorite of many visiting CEO's and other important people. Dick was actually underdressed, all things considered, but he really didn't have much else in this particular category. Plus, he had to look the part. He was passing for an 18-year-old and teenagers, no matter what age, never dressed as smart as they ought. He looked like the rich, probably obnoxious son of one of the hotel's many important guests. 

He strode past the restaurant and the lounge of the hotel, each buzzing with drunk business men and women by this hour. Finally he reached his destination. The private bar area was shielded by ornate 19th century doors, immaculately carved and trimmed with gold leaf. Normally the doors would be open unless there was a private event. In this case, the doors were closed. Outside the doors stood an employee who wore a black suit. He stood in the center of the closed doorway as Dick approached with a swagger and confidence. 

"I'm here to meet John," Dick said with a polite smile, but one that radiated assuredness. 

The employee nodded curtly and stepped aside. Dick pulled at the large, ornate handle of the door and slipped inside. The door closed silently behind him and the employee resumed his position. 

Inside the private lounge, there were four tables, all able to seat four people. All but one were completely bare and unoccupied. At the table nearest the bar, a well-groomed, middle-aged man sat sipping a martini. There was no one behind the bar and the room seemed almost obnoxiously quiet. The man with gray in his hair and light stubble on his chiseled face beckoned Dick over to the table. Dick walked over with a smile, making his way a bit slowly so as to give the man a view as he approached which he appeared to take full advantage of. 

Dick began to sit down in the chair next to the man, but as he was halfway down, the man stopped him.

"Not yet, boy. Stand here in front of me," the man's deep voice commanded. Dick halted his descent and took his place before the man. Still seated, the man reached out and grabbed Dick's hand, pulling him close. Dick stood in front of the older man as the man's hand released him, but then gently made its way up Dick's mostly bare arm. The polo shirt's sleeves were quite short so as to show off his upper arms. The man's other hand mirrored the first and crept up Dick's smooth arms, feeling the burgeoning muscle underneath. The hands crossed Dick's collarbone and met at the top of Dick's chest. The right hand's fingers slipped into the exposed part of Dick's smooth chest that was visible due to the polo shirt and pulled down slightly, unbuttoning the only button and exposing just a bit more of the slightly tanned and smooth skin. 

Then the hands split apart, feeling the small pectorals outlined in the tight shirt and the nipples, sticking out slightly in the air-conditioned room. The hands joined again at the top of Dick's abs and felt the defined muscles all the way to Dick's belt. Then another split as the hands swept around and took a quick squeeze of the pert ass trapped in the tight slacks. The man leaned back in his chair and smiled as he noted Dick's partial erection.

"Absolutely perfect. What can I get you to drink?" the man asked in a sultry voice.

"I'll have what you're having," Dick replied with a smile, taking a seat as the man gestured for him to do so. The man stood up, he was several inches taller than Dick and much larger, but well-built and clearly muscular, and went over to the bar and mixed up a second dirty martini. Dick watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye. He didn't want any tricky things added to the drink. He'd been there before as well. 

The man returned with the drink and they clinked glasses. Dick took a sip of the burning liquid, hiding his disgust (he hated olives) and put it down. Dick had learned long ago to hide every feeling and emotion for cash. His erection had settled down now and he crossed his legs. 

"So," the man said, breaking the silence, "how old is 'barely legal'?" 

"18 a few weeks ago," Dick lied. 

"Of course," the man said with a smile, sipping his drink. "I'm sure the answer will be the same in a few months as well and was the same several months ago."

"I have a valid ID if that makes you feel better, but I must say that if you're a police officer, you just mixed a drink for someone underage so that's not good," Dick replied wryly, taking another disgusting sip. 

"You are a clever one, and a feisty one as well," the man said. He drained his martini and mixed another. Dick would nurse this one all night unless the man started demanding he keep up which he prayed he didn't. The man seemed like he had a hollow leg. 

"So do I call you John then? Or something else?" Dick asked as the man rejoined him. 

"John is fine, since that's my actual name. And you are?"

"Dick."

"How appropriate," the man joked. "And I'm assuming that's short for Richard?"

"It is," Dick replied, sipping again.

"Then Richard it is," he said smoothly. The sound of Dick's full name sent a small ripple through his body.

The two continued to talk for some time. It was the longest Dick could ever remember keeping his clothes on. They talked of various things of no importance. John asked about Dick's past, but Dick was not forthcoming and John seemed to respect that. After all, it really didn't matter. Dick managed to finish his martini with great difficulty and when he had, John suggested they go upstairs. 

"After you," Dick said with a smile. 

"Oh no, Richard, after you. I want a view the whole way," he said with a grin. Oddly enough, the objectification seemed almost polite as opposed to the typical lustfulness. 

The two left the private lounge and made their way up to the penthouse suite. Dick had never been in this room at the hotel before. All of the rooms were nice, but this one was unbelievable. It had multiple rooms, a fireplace that was on despite it being summer, and the largest bed Dick had ever seen. Dick stood in the middle of the living room looking at the fireplace as John disappeared into the bedroom, emerging later in a robe. Dick assumed there was nothing underneath it. John's visible chest was lightly haired and graying to match his hair. He was very muscular and seemed more intimidating in a robe than fully clothed. 

He sat on the couch, making sure the robe stayed closed. His propriety was almost unnerving. He gestured for Dick to stand before the couch between him and the fireplace.

"Please, Richard, remove your clothes slowly," John asked. 

Dick began his typical striptease. He removed his shoes and socks and belt before John stopped him.

"No, Richard, you misunderstand. I don't want you to put on a show. I just want you to get undressed."

Dick's confusion caused John to smile but Dick proceeded. He pulled off his polo shirt, revealing his smooth, slightly muscular torso. Then he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, revealing the black thong underneath. John got visibly excited at the sight of it, but nodded that Dick proceed to remove that as well. Dick pulled it off and tossed it on the pile of clothes, standing before John completely naked.

"Breathtaking," John said, simply gazing at Dick's flawless body. Dick rested his hands on his narrow hips, smiling politely. "Flex please," John said. Dick complied, flexing in a few various positions and showing his burgeoning muscles. John was now visibly aroused and Dick could see the massive cock poking the robe outward. Dick began to get hard as well and this seemed to send John into a pleasure overdrive. As Dick stood before him, flexing with his 5" erection, John's cock slipped out and he began to stroke it. It didn't take very long for John to finish. When he did, Dick ceased the flex and put his hands back on his hips. 

"You are perfect, a prince, and deserve to be treated as such," John said softly as he disrobed. His large cock dripped cum as he stood up. Dick didn't move as John easily lifted and cradled his naked body and carried him into the bedroom. He gently laid Dick on the bed and mounted the bed as well. His hands explored the smooth flesh as his tongue licked at Dick's smooth balls and up the underside of his shaft. Dick moaned loudly as John took his whole length easily into his mouth. Dick's hands went automatically to John's head as John sucked. Dick bucked his hips in rhythm. He couldn't remember the last time it had felt this good. 

Before Dick could finish, John withdrew and began to rim Dick as well, tasting the sweetness of his smooth hole. Dick moaned loudly again, his hand beginning to stroke himself absentmindedly. 

"No, let me," John said, moving Dick's hand away. He returned to sucking and Dick almost immediately finished. John drained every drop without any spillage. When he was satisfied, he lay next to Dick in the bed, pulling the naked and spent boy close and holding him tight. 

"You deserve better," John whispered into Dick's ear. That was the last thing he said before he fell asleep. Dick also drifted off, those words ringing in his ears.

He awoke 2 hours later. It was midnight and John was gone. Dick's clothes were folded neatly on the dresser in the bedroom with a note and $5000 in cash. The note read, 'Don't tell Laura about the extra cash. You deserve it.'

Dick immediately phoned in and told Laura about the extra cash. Dick would've loved the bonus, but he knew if she found out he'd be finished or worse. Plus, it put him in such good graces with her that she immediately gave him the rest of the week off. Dick smiled as he put the phone down and got dressed. He couldn't remember a better night and more validation for his life decisions, if you could call them that. 

He walked through the lobby which was still buzzing even at midnight, beaming. He nodded politely to the bellhop who was the same as before. That was a bit odd as they tended to change shifts earlier. 

Dick turned the corner and walked down the mostly deserted sidewalk. The neighborhood surrounding the hotel wasn't great, but only for a little bit. Dick hurried through that section until he got closer to his building. The cool night air felt great on his face as he thought about the rest he would get with his time off and the workouts as well. He was so distracted that he didn't notice the large van parked in the alleyway. He didn't notice the large man standing by the dumpster. He only noticed when he felt the blow to the back of his head. He saw stars as collapsed unconscious to the pavement. The large man easily picked up Dick's smaller body and carried him over and tossed him into the back of the van, climbing in after him. 


	3. Undeserved Consequences

Inside the large transit van that was parked in the dark alley, the unknown assailant began his task of removing the clothes from the unconscious teenager. Delicately and with mounting passion the large man removed Dick's shirt, shoes, socks, and pants. He salivated at the sight of Dick's mostly smooth body clad only in the black thong. With now-reckless abandon he mauled Dick's limp body, biting, licking, rubbing, pinching, and grabbing at the helpless teen. He savored the taste, the smell, and the feels that greeted him. However, he managed to finally control himself and stand up. 

He secured Dick's wrists behind his back with duct tape and his ankles as well. He then stuffed a sock gag into Dick's mouth and wrapped it with duct tape as well. He didn't plan on having the boy say anything for awhile. He then took a blade and sliced the thong off of Dick, leaving him completely naked. The man became instantly aroused at the sight of Dick's small, limp cock. It was all he could do to control himself. He then stripped himself, leaving his large, overweight, and hairy body just as naked as Dick's. He sat on a small crate in the corner of the van and waited for Dick to awake. 

Eventually Dick groaned as he came to. There was a throbbing pain in the back of his head from where he'd been struck and a slight ringing in his ears. The first thing he realized was the fact that his limbs were restricted. Then he felt the cool, slightly sticky black rubber floor of the van against his skin in places he shouldn't. His eyes shot open and he rolled off his left side and onto his back and secured wrists. The sight that greeted him made him slightly sick. The large, fat, naked man was slowly stroking himself as he watched Dick on the floor. Dick felt the gag in his mouth but nonetheless began loudly voicing his protests. However, little sound came out. Dick's squirming and protests seemed to excite the man, so Dick subsided slightly. 

"My god, you truly are breathtaking," the man said, continuing to stroke. "I've always said never pay for what you can obtain for free. Although, in all fairness, I did offer to pay."

Dick looked confused. The man ceased his masturbation and rested his arms on his knees as he looked down at the helpless teenager. 

"You see, I was at the hotel a few weeks ago. I saw you walk in, dressed quite similarly as you were tonight. I asked my friends if they knew who you were. Something about you just seemed like you weren't a typical guest. One of my friends is a former client of yours and began talking excitedly about your beauty, your skills, and who you worked for. So I called up Laura the next day, requesting the boy I saw at the hotel. She then asked me to specify what I wanted to do with you. I was surprised, assuming that when it came to clearly illegal prostitutes, there were no limits. Nonetheless I told her: bondage, dildos, spanking, whipping, edging, the whole nine yards. She informed me that this would not be possible. I argued and eventually offered $10,000. $10,000, for you! Can you imagine? And she said no. So, my dear little friend, your employer holds you in high esteem. I am, though, not a man who takes no for an answer. So I asked the young bellhop at the hotel to keep an eye out for you. I asked him to let me know when you arrived, assuming I'd then have a few hours to get everything ready. When you left tonight, he sent me a message so I was ready when you walked by. And here we are. So now, I'm going to get what I wanted, albeit for a much lower price."

Dick listened to the man's explanation and when he was finished, renewed his struggles. The tape, however, wouldn't budge. The man stood up and proceeded to produce a small syringe. Dick's eyes went wide and he rolled about, desperately trying to get away. The man ignored him and straddled his naked body with his legs, trapping Dick as he squatted his sweaty body on top, pinning Dick to the floor. 

"This is a favorite of mine. It's a mix of drugs that make a person quite docile. There's a little heroine, a little roofie, and a few other special things. This will make you cooperative enough, while at the same time not allowing you to remember anything about me. Unfortunately for you, you'll remember everything else," the man said as he held Dick still with his left hand and injected a vein with the syringe. Dick's struggles had made his veins pop and thus easy to find. The man stood back up as Dick's struggles began to subside. Dick's mind began to cloud slightly and his muscles weren't responding. The vision of the man in his mind began to cloud and while the rest of the van seemed slightly out of focus, the man seemed almost impossible to make out. Dick closed his eyes tight, trying to remember anything, but it was already becoming impossible. 

The man grabbed Dick's taped ankles and dragged him back to the center of the van. He pushed them up towards Dick's head, exposing the smooth hole of the young prostitute. He began applying a generous amount of lubricant to the tight hole as Dick's eyes rolled around in his head. He could feel the fat fingers poking and prodding into his ass. He wanted them to stop but his body simply didn't respond. Then he felt something large, something massive breach him. He screamed into the gag as the man pressed a large dildo deep into Dick's ass, enjoying the sound of the boy's screams and seeing how deep he could go. 

Dick's mind began to phase in and out. He thought of his parents, his family, the playground, meeting Laura, the clients, the highs and the lows. Images flashed through his mind whenever there wasn't renewed pain from the man's assaults. Dick was now over the man's knees as he sat on the crate and delivered a long spanking session to the teenager who cried out but couldn't struggle as the drugs flooded his system. 

There was actual fucking as the man eventually entered Dick himself. He kept coaxing Dick's cock into an erection, only to then ignore it and let it subside. The mix of feelings, of pain and pleasure, confusion all flooded Dick's drugged mind. 

Something painful, extremely painful. Was it a whip? Dick didn't know and didn't care. He just knew it hurt. 

More edging, more pleasure only to have it denied. 

Then there was an image of Laura, defending him on the phone to this monster. Or was she just defending her bottom line? Did it matter?

More spanking. Dick's ass felt raw and blistered, but maybe that was just the drugs. 

More fucking. Or was it the dildo? Did it matter? 

Dick's world began to go black.

There was a loud banging sound. Was the door opened? Was the man leaving him? There were shouts, a scream, something large collapsing next to Dick. 

Then a pause. Nothing seemed to move. 

Then a hiss. A sweet smell. Then darkness.


	4. Uneasy Rest

The first thing that struck Dick was the smell. Wherever he was, it smelled very good. Then there was the feeling of softness. He was in a bed, a very comfortable bed. His blue eyes slowly opened. He stared up at a high ceiling. Above, two large ceiling fans slowly circled. He moved his head to the left and right, taking in the rest of the large bedroom. He was on his back in a large bed, probably a king size, with the covers drawn up to his stomach. He was shirtless and he winced as he tried to prop himself up a bit to look down at himself. There were bandages wrapped around his chest. He saw bruises adorning the other areas of his torso and some red welts as well. 

Dick was in pain whenever he tried to move, so he did as little as possible. He felt like he was wearing long pants, maybe some kind of lounge pants? And boxer briefs? Yes, definitely boxer briefs. As consciousness increased, so did the pain. Dick could feel pains in his legs, on his back, on his arms, and his ass felt incredibly sore. He can't remember the last time he was in this much pain from an encounter. Even his last one from the playground didn't make him feel this bad. 

Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door. The fact that someone was knocking, asking for entrance in a place where Dick clearly didn't belong, made him almost more nervous. So he decided on total silence.

"Are you awake? May I come in?" came a soft voice. Was that an accent? The voice sounded a bit older and definitely foreign. Dick again decided that silence was the best course of action. 

The doorknob turned softly and an older man wearing some kind of tuxedo or something similar entered the room. Dick thought about closing his eyes and pretending he was asleep, but didn't react fast enough.

"Ah, you are awake. Very good, sir. How are you feeling?" the strange man asked. Dick couldn't help but notice his incredible kindness. The man entered holding a tray. On it was a glass of orange juice, a mug of something that was steaming, and a plate. Dick smelled bacon and immediately began to salivate. He stared at the man in silence as he set the tray down on the side table nearest to Dick. He then sat in a wooden chair next to the bed that Dick hadn't noticed before. 

"There's no reason to be alarmed, young man. My name is Alfred, and I'm the butler for Bruce Wayne. You're in Wayne Manor, in a guest room. You are our guest," Alfred said. Dick had of course heard of Bruce Wayne before. He saw his picture in the paper several times and had hoped at one point he'd become a client. It'd have been great to snag the richest man in the world as a regular. Dick continued to stare at Alfred in total silence. 

"May I?" Alfred asked gently, indicating he wanted to check Dick's bandages or something of that nature. Dick, once again, chose silence and not moving. He just stared. Alfred smiled as if he spoke the language Dick was supposedly using. He reached out and with hands that definitely knew what they were doing, began examining Dick's rib cage. Dick winced in pain as he applied slight pressure. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm just checking the progress. You have several broken ribs. The welts and bruises will heal in time. Luckily the skin was never broken. Would you like me to fetch you a shirt? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," Alfred said, withdrawing his hands with a smile. Dick shook his head. He didn't care. He was used to being totally naked in front of strangers so being just shirtless was like wearing a heavy winter coat. 

"I've brought a spot of breakfast for you, sir, if you're hungry?" Alfred added, indicating the tray. Dick nodded. He was famished. He tried to turn to his left and reach his right hand towards the plate, but the pain of torquing his ribs and shoulder made him wince and actually cry out slightly in pain. 

"Oh dear, sir, I'm sorry. Please don't strain yourself. Allow me," Alfred said. He broke a small piece of bacon and held it forward. Dick hesitantly opened his mouth and Alfred put the bacon in. Dick chewed, analyzing Alfred carefully. The glass of orange juice followed and Dick gulped some down. "Now, a bit of tea," Alfred insisted. Dick sipped the piping hot liquid as well. It tasted incredible and Dick felt the warm liquid descend into his body. 

"So this is your fetish? Feeding me like a baby or something?" Dick said, breaking his silence. 

"I beg your pardon?" Alfred said, looking surprised and a little insulted. 

"I mean, it's not the weirdest thing I've ever seen. To each their own," Dick said. 

"Sir, I'm afraid you have the wrong impression," Alfred said, popping another piece of bacon inside Dick's mouth. 

"Sorry dude, but I don't think so. You're far too willing and excited to help," Dick said. Manners be damned.

"That's because he cares and it's his job," came a deep voice from the doorway. Dick was startled at the sound and swallowed his bacon. In the doorway stood a large man, over six feet tall, dark, well-groomed hair, broad shoulders, broad chest with his arms folded across it. He was clean shaven with a strong jawline and wore a button-down shirt with dress pants. It was Bruce Wayne. If Dick hadn't been in so much pain and in a strange place, the sight of him would have made him aroused. As it was, Dick was still slightly aroused. 

Bruce entered the bedroom and stood next to the seated Alfred. Dick stared up at the hulking billionaire, slightly intimidated. 

"My name is Bruce Wayne, and welcome to my house. May I ask your name?"

"Richard, but I go by Dick," Dick replied. He had no idea why he didn't just say Dick. 

"No last name?" Bruce asked.

"Who cares?" Dick retorted.

Bruce smiled at the impetuousness. 

"I guess I do, but that's your choice. You're not a prisoner here," Bruce said.

"Why am I here? How did I get here?" Dick asked, trying to prop himself up again, but ceasing because of the pain.

"Please, sir, try not to move too much," Alfred cooed, placing a hand on Dick's soft, brown hair in a caring way that surprisingly to Dick felt in no way sexual. 

"Batman found you. He's a friend. He brought you here," Bruce said rather matter-of-factly.

"Batman?" Dick asked with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell was he doing looking for me?" Dick asked suspiciously. 

"He wasn't looking for you, apparently. He was looking for the person who did this damage to you. Apparently that man was part of an organization that traffics in underage prostitutes. They find them on the street or in your case, through a service. They pay for the night, but the kids never return. If Batman hadn't found you, you'd probably be sold by now," Bruce said. The tone in his voice caused Dick to shiver slightly. 

"And what happened to the man?" Dick asked warily. 

"Arrested. Batman told me that he tracked the renting of the van, found the van in the alleyway, heard the commotion inside, and busted in," Bruce said. That must have been when Dick remembered the large thing collapsing next to him. "The man was torturing you, Dick. Batman said that he contemplated leaving you, but said there was something about you that made him pause. Assuming you would become either a ward of the state or go to prison for prostitution, he asked if he could bring you here. If nothing else, to heal up and recover. Your system is full of the drugs he injected you with, you have several broken ribs, welts, bruises. All of that will take time to heal. We just want to help," Bruce said.

"And what is the help going to cost me? Handjobs for the two of you? Blowjobs? Full-on sex? Want me to jerk for you? Want to fuck me? Want the old man to fuck me while you watch? Threesome? What?" Dick asked. He was slightly perturbed but also asked these questions in a very calm way that alarmed Bruce to the core. He regained his composure and smiled.

"I know what you must be used to. This will cost you absolutely nothing. When you're healed, you're free to go. Or you can stay for as long as you want. I have plenty of space. When you're well enough to get out of bed, feel free to explore the mansion and the grounds," Bruce said with a smile. "Now, I need to go to work. Have a good day, Mr. Dick," he said with a grin.

"Grayson," Dick said as Bruce turned to leave the room. "It's Dick Grayson." 

Bruce paused and turned around. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grayson."

Bruce left the room and Alfred followed, leaving the tray.

"I'll return in a moment, sir," Alfred said to Dick. 

Alfred followed Bruce into the hallway and shut the door behind him. 

"Sir, shouldn't you have mentioned that the study is off limits?" Alfred asked nervously.

"Alfred," Bruce smiled, "he's a teenager. A study is boring to him. However, if I said it's off limits, that's the first place he's going to go."

"Of course, sir, you're right," Alfred said. "Have a good day."

Alfred returned to Dick's bedside and fed him the rest of his breakfast. He left quietly as Dick's eyes became heavy from the food and hot tea. Dick drifted off to a deep sleep, feeling uneasy, but resting nonetheless. 


	5. Recovery and Discovery

The next time Dick saw Bruce was two days later. He asked Bruce about his phone and where it was. He needed to call Laura. Or did he want to call Laura? Dick wasn't sure, but he hadn't gone this long without a checkin since he started working for her. Bruce's face flushed a little at the question. He informed Dick that Batman had brought him to the mansion completely naked. The clothes Dick had been wearing had been ripped, either in removal or during the ordeal. Bruce knew nothing of a phone. Dick wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but when Bruce offered full use of the mansion's phones, Dick declined. The problem was the numbers were all pre-programmed into the phone. Dick didn't actually know them. All he did know was where the PO box was to drop off the 20%. 

After a few days the welts and bruises were beginning to heal, in no small part to Alfred's ministrations. The day after Dick had initially woke up, Alfred had crept in with some salve and a cloth. 

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I need to apply this to your wounds. It will dramatically increase the healing of your skin," Alfred said. He appeared almost embarrassed and Dick had no idea why until he nodded to Alfred. Alfred then slowly pulled the covers down, exposing Dick's lower half. Dick saw light blue pajama bottoms ending with his bare feet. Alfred began to gently apply the salve to the exposed parts of Dick's bare torso: any part that wasn't bandaged. The salve was surprisingly warm as were Alfred's hands. Despite the slight stinging that occurred every now and then, it felt remarkably good. Alfred's hands made small circles over Dick's abs and navel. Dick's eyes closed slowly and opened and he looked at Alfred's face. It was humble and medical. Dick couldn't detect any trace of pleasure he might be deriving from this. That just didn't make any sense. 

"I'm sorry sir, but the worst of it is on your legs and, I'm afraid on your posterior. May I? Unless you would like to do it yourself," Alfred said. Dick moved his arms and tried to bend but he was still very sore because of his ribs and winced in pain as he moved. 

"No...it's ok," Dick said, laying back on the pillow. With medical professionalism and integrity, Alfred untied the pajama bottoms and gently pulled them off. Dick saw his legs for the first time and gasped. They were crisscrossed with red welts and bruises. As he was taking in the sight, Alfred also pulled down the underwear Dick was wearing. This would have caused any teenager to be embarrassed, but not Dick. Alfred stole a glance at Dick's face and was shocked at how calm the boy was at having a stranger unclothe him. 

Alfred began at Dick's ankles and applied a generous amount, gently lifting Dick's legs so as to cover them completely in the healing balm. His hands massaged as much as applied as he worked his way up each mostly smooth leg. Alfred could feel the tight muscle underneath, but it made no difference to him. Dick, however, couldn't ignore the sensations. By the time Alfred reached his upper thighs, Dick's cock was at full mast and all 5 and 1/2 inches greeted Alfred. Alfred's face turned deep red, but Dick's didn't. 

"I'm terribly sorry," Alfred said, as if he'd done something wrong.

"It's ok," Dick said softly, looking at the embarrassed butler. "Go ahead."

Alfred looked shocked. 

"I'm sorry sir, but you have the absolute wrong impression," Alfred said, sounding harsh for the first time since Dick had met him. He turned Dick on his side, facing away from him, and hastily applied a generous amount to Dick's ass which was ravaged with welts and bruises. He rolled Dick back onto his back and pulled up the underwear over Dick's erection followed by the pants. He pulled the covers up and stood up to leave, totally silent. 

"I'm sorry," Dick said as Alfred reached the door. "I didn't mean to make you mad. It's just...that's all that I know."

Alfred turned and looked at Dick with an expression of pure sorrow. 

"When older men touch me...that's what they want. They're only helping themselves, even if they claim to be helping me, like a massage or something. I just...I just assumed," Dick said as tears welled in his blue eyes. Alfred returned quickly to the chair next to the bed and placed his things on the table. 

"Oh sir, it's quite alright," Alfred said reassuringly. Dick began to weep for the first time since he could remember as Alfred leaned across the bed and embraced the injured boy. "It's alright, sir, it's alright. I'm here."

***

The weeks following Dick's arrival at the mansion saw Dick and Alfred spending a lot of time together. Twice a day Alfred would apply the salve and the two would talk endlessly, which is to say Dick asked a lot of questions about Bruce Wayne, most of which Alfred could answer. Dick was also very open about his past which made Alfred uncomfortable all the time, but he didn't show it. Dick needed an outlet and Alfred was it. 

It took two weeks for the welts and bruises to completely heal. Then it was just the ribs. Dick was now moving about the mansion, gingerly of course. Bruce was gone for most of the day and many nights as well. It was all business-related, Alfred said, but Dick figured Bruce was just banging people every night. He would if he was a billionaire. 

The mansion was bigger than Dick could've imagined. His room was at the far end of the hallway and Bruce's was on the other end. In between were several more guest rooms, but Dick's was the biggest and that made him smile. When Alfred left him alone, Dick would explore Bruce's room, going through his clothes and things to see what a billionaire's life was like. He was tempted, at first, to pocket a few of the nicer things in there, but he never did. Stealing had never really come easy for him. He was more curious than anything else. In fact, he was quite open about his explorations to Alfred and even joked to Bruce about finding some skimpy underwear in the man's drawer. 

"Those were a gag gift from a lady friend of mine," Bruce said with a raised eyebrow. "I don't mind you exploring, but you need to learn boundaries while you're here," Bruce said. The fact that Dick got away with it made him feel very odd. He had actually told Bruce about it in the hopes of releasing some kind of anger from him, but he got nothing. No matter what, Bruce and Alfred seemed to defy every expectation Dick had about how people acted. Then again, the adults in his life most recently weren't the best examples. 

As Dick healed even more, he began to make trips to the mansion's gym, which was so well-appointed he knew why Bruce was in such great shape. He was limited in what he could do (Alfred supervised every time, just to make sure Dick didn't over-extend himself). But his time in the gym was by far the most enjoyable. And after he passed the six-week mark, Alfred pronounced him fully healed and able to make full use of the gym alone. 

That same night, when Alfred pronounced him healed, Dick bounded down the stairs in his usual boisterous fashion to the dinner table. However, what greeted him wasn't the usual smiling Alfred in an apron and a busy-looking Bruce who'd already begun to eat. Rather, both Bruce and Alfred were sitting at the table looking quite serious. Dick was taken aback and slowly sat in a chair across from them. 

"Dick, we need to talk," Bruce said. 

"About what?" Dick asked nervously. He began to think quickly as to whether he'd done anything recently they could be mad about, but he couldn't think of anything. Did he break something in the gym? Go somewhere he shouldn't have gone?

"Did you used to be an acrobat?" Bruce asked. "A member of the flying Graysons?"

Dick gulped. Scenes flashed in his memory. Screams, tears, ambulance lights, darkness.

"Dick," Bruce said again. Dick was rushed back to reality.

"Yes," Dick said quietly.

"You fled Gotham's Home for Boys when you were 13 to begin your...new life?" Bruce asked again. Dick just nodded. Were the police going to arrest him? What was going to happen?

"Why didn't you say anything?" Bruce asked.

"I...I didn't think it was important...you never really asked..." Dick said. He was telling the truth, or at least he felt he was. 

"Dick, I've spent a lot of time researching your family, trying to find distant relatives, someone you might know that could take you in," Bruce said. Dick's face drained of color. He had figured eventually they'd ask him to leave and he'd just return to Laura or something. Dick didn't know but he was still slightly taken aback. 

"But I can't find anyone," Bruce said.

"There isn't anyone," Dick said. "If there had been, I would have lived with them when...when it happened."

"Dick...Richard...would you like to stay here?" Bruce suddenly asked. Dick was floored. "Alfred would homeschool you since, well, since you haven't really been educated in several years. A proper school probably wouldn't go well. And I would look into protective custody. Adoption wouldn't mean much given your age."

Dick didn't know what to say. Everything now seemed to be in fast forward. His mind raced at the thought of staying in the mansion all the time. 

"But you wouldn't be confined to the mansion," Bruce added. "You'd be as free as anyone your age who lived at home."

The word 'home' struck Dick the hardest. He couldn't remember the last time he had one of those that really felt like one. 

"You can take time to think about it. I'm in no rush to..." 

"Yes," Dick interrupted him. "Yes."

Bruce smiled broadly as did Alfred. 

"We're very glad to hear that. Alfred and I have been on our own for so long, we've forgotten what it's like to have some youth and life in the house. And to be quite honest, you're not a bad kid, either," Bruce said with a smile. 

Dick smiled. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders and chest at the same time. 

"And your answer makes this next part more fitting," Alfred said, getting up from his chair and moving behind the island in the kitchen. From underneath he lifted a large cake onto the counter. 

"Happy 16th birthday, Richard," Bruce said. Dick stood up, almost shaking. He had no idea. He'd completely lost track of time and quite frankly, his real age because of all of the deception he had to employ. He made a beeline, not for the cake, but for Bruce. He flung his arms around the hulking man and began soaking his shoulder in tears. But these were tears of joy. That night, Dick slept more soundly than any time he could remember. He had a home.

The next morning, Bruce was gone before breakfast which wasn't terribly unusual but given the events of the previous night, seemed odd. Alfred, too, was gone, with a breakfast tray laid out in Dick's place and a note of apology. Dick picked up the note and read it.

'_Sorry we weren't here to enjoy the first full day of your new life, but urgent Wayne Enterprise business has called Master Bruce away and unfortunately myself as well. I'm not sure when he'll be back, but I'll be back this evening. ~A'_

Dick put the note down and ate his breakfast in silence. Afterwards he changed into gym shorts and a cutoff shirt to go workout. Unfortunately his few weeks in bed had stunted his workouts and even though his muscles were still slightly defined all over his body, they weren't where Dick wanted them for someone who was now 16. 

After a vigorous workout and a cooling shower, Dick dressed in sweat pants and a form-fitting tshirt. Alfred had allowed him to pick out his clothes and Dick had selected a lot of clothes that were "revealing", as Alfred put it. Dick had blushed at the time and called it a force of habit. Alfred had met him halfway and instead of super-slim cuts, they'd chosen slim ones that gave Dick the general style he was after. It wasn't like he was trying to attract anyone as before, they just felt comfortable. 

Dick padded around the mansion in his bare feet, wandering around and opening random doors. He'd done this multiple times but somehow he always found a new room. This time he wandered into Bruce's study again. He'd been in there multiple times before, but apart from a large desk and bookshelves, there wasn't much to see. Dick hung around in the room, though, for some reason. He snooped around Bruce's desk, but like always it was pristine and clear of any indication of his business. 

Dick walked over to a bookshelf and began looking at the books, seeing if one might pique his fancy for the day, but most were boring business-related titles or books that Dick would definitely not enjoy. 

Dick backed up to get a better look at the top shelf and accidentally hit Bruce's desk. His momentum caused him to flail slightly and he reached out to steady himself and the only thing on the desk that would do that was a bust of some person. He grabbed it, even though he knew it would just fall with him, but it didn't. Dick straightened up and looked at the bust with growing curiosity. He grabbed the shoulders of it and pulled, but it seemed glued or bolted into the desk. Dick strained with all his might but it wouldn't budge. 

"What the hell?" Dick muttered to himself. He began looking around the bust, trying to see where it was attached or how. His hand pushed at the face as he tried to look somewhere else and his hand moved. The head of the bust was on an invisible hinge. Dick's heart raced slightly as he grasped the head with both hands and moved it backward. It swung on the hinge and rested at a 90 degree angle. What was underneath made Dick's young, blue eyes go wide. There was a switch and a light. Dick swallowed hard. He knew he shouldn't. He had no idea what would happen. But who would know? They were gone, right? 

Dick's bare hand trembled as he turned the switch. It was on a spring and when he let go it immediately snapped back to its position. The light had flicked on momentarily but turned off when the switch flipped back. Dick had also thought he heard a sound, but couldn't be sure. He turned the switch again, this time holding it. The light stayed on and there was a soft hum. Then the hum stopped and the light turned off, even though Dick's hand was still on the switch. He made a face and closed the bust, slightly disappointed. Then he turned around.

Behind him, the bookcase had moved to the side. Dick's eyes went as wide as they could as he saw a singular pole. It was a satin brass color and very smooth. It was the only thing in the cavity revealed by the false bookcase. Dick just stared at it and then slowly looked over the edge. It descended into darkness and Dick couldn't see anywhere below the floor. Then, as if something clicked in his mind, Dick just smiled. Without a second thought he leapt onto the poll and slid down.

"Wooo!" Dick cried as he slid. He passed some chamber and felt a warm sensation over his body, then a light flashed red. Dick's bare feet hit a very soft pad at the base of the pole. Then he heard a loud, automated voice.

"Intruder detected!" 

Dick stood motionless as red lights flashed and a shocked Alfred stared at him from behind a computer. Dick gulped. Alfred slowly rose from his chair, in his hand, a red canister. His face was expressionless. Dick was frozen to the spot. His blue eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings, understanding where he was but not able to believe it was true. Alfred was getting closer. Dick wanted to run, but where would he go? Should he fight Alfred? He tried to speak but the connection between his brain and his mouth seemed severed. 

"Alfred...I'm...." Dick managed to say before Alfred sprayed his face with the contents of the canister. The smell was sweet and the feeling was blissful. Dick had felt this before. Back in the van, when it was all over. Now he knew. Now he understood. 

Dick fell forward unconscious into the arms of Alfred who laid him temporarily on the floor before making a very urgent call.


	6. Moving Forward

Dick's head rolled from side to side as he slowly regained consciousness. He felt pretty good, but his mouth was a little dry. He slowly opened his bright blue eyes and realized he was in the same place. So it wasn't a dream. He honestly would've believed it if he'd woken in his bed. He tried to stand but realized he was secured to the chair. He was seated in a metallic chair with arms and each wrist was cuffed to the arms and each ankle cuffed to a leg. His bare feet were flat on the cold floor and as he instinctively struggled against the cuffs, his burgeoning muscles showed in his tight-fitting shirt.

"Hey!" Dick yelled into what seemed like an empty space, although it was far from silent. The hum of computers and other machines filled the air. Dick took in as much as he could. It was a cave-like place, although it didn't really seem like a real cave. There was more technology than Dick had ever seen, and when his gaze shifted to his left, he saw something that made his eyes go wide. 

Parked nearby was the famous Batmobile. Dick had seen pictures in the paper but couldn't believe it was right there. His mind was racing as he struggled again in his cuffs, but unfortunately the chair was secured to the floor as well, so he wasn't going anywhere.

"Sorry, sir, but the restraints are necessary, at least for now," came the familiar voice of Alfred. He stepped out from around a corner followed by Batman. Except it wasn't Batman. It was Bruce Wayne in Batman's costume. He was wearing everything except the cowl and the cape. Dick now understood why Bruce was in such great shape. His muscles were pronounced proudly in the tight gray spandex, and Dick's eyes couldn't help but drift south to the dark blue briefs and the massive bulge they clearly contained. Dick's own cock twitched slightly, but the reality of his situation brought him back to his senses. 

"Please, let me explain!" Dick shouted, struggling again. "Please, just don't hurt me!"

"Relax, Dick, we're not going to hurt you," Bruce said softly. Something in his voice made Dick believe him, and after the conversation and elation of the previous evening, Dick wanted to believe him. "Just tell me what happened."

Dick relayed the story of the study, the bookcase, the bust, and admitted to a sort of reckless adventure feeling. Bruce listened attentively and smiled when Dick mentioned sliding down with a cry of excitement. 

"Alfred had suggested that we tell you the study was off limits, but I knew that would just push you there anyway. I figured you wouldn't discover this on your own, and you really didn't, if we're being honest. It seems like an accident," Bruce said. Alfred looked worried. 

"Bruce, I swear, I won't tell a single soul. Please just don't send me away!" Dick pleaded. His eyes began to tear up slightly. 

"Dick, let me ask you a question: do you know anything about my past?" Bruce asked.

"Uh...not really," Dick responded hesitantly. 

"I was orphaned as a child, about the same age as you. My parents were shot in cold blood. It was a senseless murder brought on by a lax approach to crime in this city. I vowed that when I was older, I would avenge my parents. But you see, I realized that it couldn't be about just finding the man who killed them and killing him. That wouldn't make me feel better for very long. What I needed to do was change the environment so that others wouldn't suffer as I did," Bruce explained.

"But crime still happens. Bad things still happen to people!" Dick said, becoming angry for some reason which really didn't seem like the thing to do in his current predicament. 

"That's true. I can't stop it all. But crime rates are down and most importantly, major villains and criminals have been taken off the streets and disasters averted that most don't know about. All because I'm able to use my fortune and skills to help bring criminals to justice," Bruce said. 

Dick stared at him, waiting for him to continue, assuming there was something coming after that was the reason Dick was still alive and conscious. 

"Your parents, too, were killed in a senseless crime," Bruce said solemnly. Dick closed his eyes and fought back tears as the images and memories flooded him again. Dick had found this out when he happened to run across a copy of a paper that said as much. The identity had never been established. When Dick had read that a few years ago, he had vowed revenge as well. But that seemed like an eternity ago. Another life. Another time. 

"I know who did it," Bruce said. Dick's eyes shot open. Three were no tears now, but fire. Hatred burned within him and he felt like he could rip the cuffs off the chair. His muscles strained in anger. 

"Who did it?" Dick growled. Bruce looked slightly taken aback at the tone and looked at Alfred who looked worried as well. 

"What would you do if I told you?" Bruce asked sternly.

"I'd kill the motherfucker," Dick growled again. 

"And then what?" 

Dick looked confused.

"And then what?" Bruce repeated.

"I...uh....I don't know," Dick said, his anger simmering slightly. 

"Exactly," Bruce said matter-of-factly. "Then you would be no better than he is and you'd be a killer. And that wouldn't bring your parents back or bring justice to the world."

Dick breathed slowly, looking at a maskless Batman and Alfred. He moved his jaw side to side as he thought. 

"So what then?" Dick asked. 

Bruce chuckled. 

"You really don't know how to control your bravado, do you, Dick?" Bruce said with a grin. 

Dick grinned wryly. 

"I suppose not," Dick responded. 

"I want to help you, Dick. And I think you can help me. Join me in my fight. Train to become a crusader of justice, of truth, of dignity. We can't erase our past, but we can write our future," Bruce said. 

"So we'd be caped crusaders then?" Dick asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"I like the sound of that," Bruce replied. "We'd make quite a dynamic duo, I think."

Dick breathed deeply.

"I'm in."

Later that evening, Dick was beginning his training regimen in the gym. Bruce had given him multiple daily workouts that included yoga, stretching, gymnastics, aerobics, strength training, and basic cardiovascular workouts. Each day he would have to rotate through several of them and Bruce would supervise some and not others. The point was to see if Dick had the will to do the work on his own. Bruce had promised that he would be in excruciating pain after day 1. 

"The pain of the workouts will be nothing compared to the pain of what awaits you out there if you're not prepared," Bruce said sternly. 

While Dick was working out, Bruce and Alfred were sipping coffee in the living room. 

"I think this is a mistake," Alfred warned. "We should have used the amnesia gas and redone the entry system to bar him from finding it again," Alfred said. 

"For how long? Eventually he would find out by living here. You and I both know that this place is the best chance he has for a good life. Either he stays upstairs and becomes a recluse or he puts his skills to use. The boy is incredibly athletic already," Bruce countered. 

"But sir, imagine the amount of times you've almost died. Do you want to put a 16-year-old in that situation? Is that responsible?" Alfred countered back.

Bruce put his coffee down and set his jaw. 

"When I found him he was tied up, bruised, beaten, and naked. He'd been raped, spanked, and tortured. God only knows what that kid's been through in addition to that one night. If we cut him out, eventually he'll go back to that. In a few years we might be able to change his attitude, but once he's 18 and leaves the house, it'd be natural for him to pursue that life again, but this time legally where he'd probably make more money and have safer clients. I can't let him sell himself to the highest bidder. I can't let him waste his life. This is his chance to make a difference with me. And who knows? All of those near-death experiences of mine might have been avoided if I had someone watching my back."

Alfred sipped his coffee in silence. 

Dick hobbled up the stairs, groaning. His legs were on fire, his abs hurt so much that it hurt to breathe. He made it to his door when he heard a voice behind him.

"And that was day 1."

Dick turned, in pain, to see a smiling Bruce. Dick stuck out his lower jaw a bit with a slight grin and flipped the bird. Bruce smirked and walked away down toward his room. Dick entered his bathroom to find Alfred finishing off an ice bath.

"Oh hell no," Dick said, his eyes wide. 

Alfred rolled his eyes and looked at Dick. 

"You're wasting time and if you don't trust by now that I know what I'm doing medically, then you never will. How do you think Bruce recovers? With my help. I trained with special forces in Britain and worked as a medic with them. I know what I'm doing. Now strip," Alfred commanded. 

Had Alfred been anyone else, Dick would've felt like he was back with a client. But six weeks with him had taught him that Alfred didn't care one bit. Every time Dick had basically offered, Alfred had denied. It wasn't propriety, he just wasn't interested. Why that caused Dick so much confusion, he couldn't say. Nonetheless, with Alfred's help, Dick managed to remove his workout clothes. Alfred held his hand to help him step into the ice bath and watched as Dick's mostly smooth body sank beneath the floating cubes. Dick managed to suppress most of the screams he wanted to emit as Alfred kept the timer. 

"Sadist. Asshole. Jackass." Dick said as he shivered. 

"Such colorful language for someone so cold," Alfred remarked casually. When the time was finished he helped Dick get out. Dick stepped onto the bathmat as Alfred wrapped him in a towel. Dick looked down at his cock which had retreated as best it could into the warmth of Dick's body. 

"It was really cold," Dick joked to Alfred. When Alfred realized what he meant, he decided to play along.

"You should see Master Bruce when he's finished. It's like a pressed stud," Alfred said, smiling warmly. 

Dick laughed out loud for the first time in a long time as Alfred helped him dry and dress for bed. 

"This will be our routine for the first few weeks of training. I promise it will get better," Alfred said.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," Dick said, setting under the covers. 

Alfred turned off the light and shut the door as Dick drifted off to sleep.


	7. New Frontiers

Bruce wasn't kidding about the training. There were days were Dick was honestly ready to throw in the towel. He couldn't believe that Bruce was able to do it with him day in and day out. But then again, Bruce was in incredible shape. After a few weeks, the regimen shifted. Bruce and Dick had a conversation about specializing rather than broad strokes and it was decided that agility, swiftness, and acrobatics were Dick's strong suits. Despite the lifting regimen, Dick hadn't ticked about 140. His muscles began to show just a little bit more, but clearly he was designed for something different. 

Now everything moved towards gymnastics, acrobatics, and cardio. A lot of it reminded Dick of training with his family all of those years ago. The 16-year-old now seemed to be more comfortable. He was like a duck to water, feeling good as well as tired at the end of the day as opposed to just drained. Alfred continued to monitor him to make sure that Bruce wasn't pushing him too hard, but once the priorities changed, so did Dick's attitude. He wanted to push harder and faster. He could see the results. He felt confident. He couldn't land a punch like Bruce could, but that didn't matter. What mattered was his speed, his agility, his counterpunch, using his momentum. Dick could deliver almost two punches to Bruce's one. That would make up for his lack of brute strength. 

The off times were for study. Bruce took Dick down to the Batcave everyday, showing him the different computers and gadgets and gizmos. It would take a long time and a lot of practical application before Dick would be proficient, but the basics were certainly necessary. Dick learned the different gases at their disposal, the different devices to incapacitate, to tie up, and to do some damage if necessary. Bruce taught Dick how to Batclimb by using the side of the mansion which provided all of the intricacies they might find out in Gotham.

In what little spare time Dick could find for himself, he devoted it to either sleeping or reading. He'd discovered a lot of interesting books in Bruce's library that seemed to mirror what they were doing. Dick became lost in the world of knights and medieval times. He poured over different volumes, making those stories come alive in his mind and imagining what it would be like when he was finally able to join Bruce out in the world. 

"Do you think of yourself as a knight? Or a vigilante?" Dick asked through a mouthful of chicken one evening. 

"I'm not really sure," Bruce replied. "I suppose I assumed more of a vigilante, but I like to think that I'm really just an extension of the Police HQ. I mean, I have the hotline, I know the commissioner and the chief. I suppose maybe a knight would be more adequate."

"So you're like a...dark knight...or knight of the dark," Dick said with a smile and wide eyes. 

"You certainly seem to have an active imagination," Bruce chuckled. 

"So that makes me, what, your squire?" Dick asked with a raised eyebrow. "Your sidekick?"

"I thought we'd be more like partners," Bruce said. 

"Well, yeah, duh, but not equals," Dick said. Bruce was surprised. He would've assumed that someone with Dick's ego and bravado would've demanded to be equal. He hadn't figured out how that would've worked, but still. 

"I mean, this is your thing. You fund it, it's your idea, it's your stuff. I'm just along for the ride. Plus, you're the muscle, I'm the speed. And I'm 16 and you're like 80."

"Easy," Bruce said with narrow eyes.

"My point is that if you're a knight, knights need squires. My job is to take care of the loose ends, to distract enemies with flash and tremendous jokes and quips, while you punch their lights out. They can't fight you if they're distracted by me," Dick said. He was getting really excited.

"You've really taken a shine to those medieval books in the library, haven't you?" Bruce said. 

"It just makes sense," Dick said, shoving more food into his mouth. 

"Well, I see your point. But a squire does exactly what the knight commands. You're backup. Is that the role you really want?" Bruce asked. 

"I mean, at least at first. Let's be honest, I'm really excited to get out there, but I'm..." all of a sudden Dick seemed lost for words. 

"What?" Bruce asked.

"I'm a little scared," Dick said, suddenly quiet. "Training is all well and good, but Alfred, well, he told me about one of your tangles with the Joker. He said the Joker had you captured and strapped in some kind of slow-moving deathtrap and it was only luck that you got out."

"I wish he hadn't told you that," Bruce said softly. 

"Were you never going to tell me?!" Dick asked, now agitated. 

"Dick, you've been training for a month. That's it. Do you know how long I trained before I went out the first time? How much planning and consideration? It was over a year!" Bruce said, getting agitated as well. "I wasn't going to distract you with horror stories while you're still just starting to train."

"Wait, how long until I can go out with you?!" Dick asked, now standing.

"I hadn't made the determination yet, but not soon," Bruce said, sipping his water and looking away. 

"I'm ready now!" Dick exclaimed.

"You can't even decide on your own emotional state!" Bruce roared, standing up so quickly that Dick actually sat down and shrank away slightly. 

"First you're excited, then you tell me you're scared, now you're impatient? Dick, if you can't get your feelings under control, you'll never come out there! This is a dangerous world. Criminals aren't going to go easy on you because you're young. They will attack you with the same ferociousness as they do me. They will want to hurt you. Kill you! You should be scared!" Bruce was now leaning on the table, towering over Dick who looked up slightly frightened. 

"But if you pay attention and work hard, you'll be fine," Bruce said, calming down and resuming his seat. Dick was silent and motionless as he stared at Bruce. Without another word, Dick got up from the table and walked upstairs. Bruce could hear the door slam despite the size of the house and distance away the room actually was. 

Bruce went up a few hours later and gently knocked on the door but heard nothing. He opened it a crack and saw Dick asleep in his bed. Bruce breathed a sigh of relief as he'd half-expected to find the room empty. He walked to his room and crawled into bed, staring up at the ceiling and partially regretting what he'd said. He knew Dick wasn't ready, but he was also sitting on a powder keg. If he wasn't careful, he could drive Dick away and depending on the circumstances, before he could correct his memory. He tried to shake off such thoughts but his sleep was restless.

The next morning Bruce staggered downstairs in his robe, yawning broadly. He should have been up hours ago, but didn't really fall asleep until hours after he'd gone to bed. Alfred placed a cup of coffee in front of Bruce as he sat down and dragged the paper towards him. 

"Where's Dick?" Bruce managed to say in a yawn as he opened up the paper. 

"He's on workout number 2 already. He was up before I was. I found him in the gym," Alfred said, giving Bruce a knowing look. 

"Did you talk to him?" Bruce asked.

"We had our usual evening chat last night in between him slamming that priceless door and you checking on him. His shoulders needed some extra care and he mentioned your conversation. Really Master Bruce, you told him it took you a year? The first time you went out you wore a ski mask!" Alfred said with a very scolding tone. "And how long did you train? Was it even a week? You got out there immediately and learned as you went. You told me then that was the best way to learn."

"Alfred, he's 16," Bruce said exasperatedly. 

"And he's seen and done more than any 16-year-old should ever have to. If you don't trust him now, he won't trust you when he needs to the most," Alfred said, going into the kitchen. 

Bruce sighed and drained his coffee. He went down to the gym just as Dick was coming out. He had removed his shirt and his smooth torso glistened with sweat. He also carried his gym shorts and was clad in just his shoes, socks, and compression shorts. Bruce's eyes lingered slightly on the small bulge that was visible in the shorts before meeting Dick's eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Bruce said. "I lied to you last night."

"I know. Alfred told me," Dick said, gulping some water. 

"Damnit, Alfred," Bruce said under his breath. 

"Relax, Bruce, it's fine. I assumed you were by your tone. You don't lie well," Dick said. "You're not as good as I am at it." He smiled wryly. 

"Good workout?" Bruce asked.

"Yep, making gains," Dick said, finishing the water in the bottle. 

"And shedding clothes," Bruce said, indicating Dick's rather skimpy coverings. 

"It makes it so much easier to move. The more freedom my legs have, the quicker and more agile I'll be," Dick said, resting his hands on his narrow hips, despite both being full of stuff. 

"Good to know, because the rest of the day is off," Bruce said.

"Why?" Dick asked, rather surprised. "This is a full day and I've got two more sessions this afternoon."

"Because after you go upstairs and stop smelling like a dumpster full of used gym socks, we're going down to the cave with Alfred and we're going to design your costume and decide on your name. Unless you want to just be 'Dick'," Bruce said with a cheeky grin. Dick's eyes lit up. He smiled broadly and walked past Bruce. When he was behind him, he delivered a swift sweep of his leg and caught Bruce unaware. Bruce's legs buckled and he collapsed onto the ground in a heap, groaning. 

"That was for the dumpster comment," Dick said. Bruce's eyes were afire with a mix of rage and revenge. Dick smiled as he screamed, bolting up the stairs with Bruce in hot pursuit who was laughing as well. Alfred rolled his eyes at the commotion and then braced himself. He heard Dick's door slam again and he sighed, shaking his head. Bruce came down the stairs breathing hard. 

"That kid is fast," Bruce said, sitting down. 

"Luckily he's on our side," Alfred said with a smile. 

After Dick showered he dressed in jeans and a form-fitting tshirt. He ran downstairs, beyond excited for what was going to happen. He started off towards the back of the kitchen where the service elevator to the batcave was hidden when he heard Bruce call him from the study. Dick walked over and entered the room. Bruce stood by the bust.

"I've been working on this the past week. Go ahead," Bruce said, indicating the bust. Dick pulled back the head and activated the switch. He watched as the bookcase slid aside and his eyes lit up and he smiled. There were two poles now, each labeled with their names. "After you," Bruce said with a smile.

Dick ran to his pole, leapt and held on as he slid down. He hadn't done this since he first discovered the cave a month ago. As he passed the area that had set off the alarm last time, he felt the same warm sensation, but this time instead of glowing red it glowed green. Dick's shoes hit the foam pad at the bottom and he bounded over to the computer where Alfred was sitting. 

On the computer was a program where Alfred could input different things to create a digital costume. On the side of the screen Dick could see different variations of Bruce's costume, the top one being the current model. The others looked to be less developed. 

"So what are you thinking, Alfred?" Bruce asked, walking up behind. "Alfred is an expert tailor," Bruce said to Dick. 

"I think Master Dick should decide," Alfred said. "What do you think?"

Dick pondered this question for awhile. He hadn't really thought about it. He'd figured it would be something he'd just be given. 

"What about the squire theme?" Alfred asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked. 

"Well, we could mirror the Batman costume in certain elements, but tailor them to your role and your abilities," Alfred explained. "And we could even add a touch of medieval flare, just for you," Alfred said with a smile. Dick returned the smile as Alfred began inputing commands. 

"I'm thinking bright colors, distracting colors. Dick isn't dark. He's the light to the darkness of Batman. Yellows, greens, reds," Alfred muttered to himself. "Green is a good base. Medieval colors were heavily green." A long-sleeved green shirt appeared on the screen with green gloves that stopped at the wrist. Then green pants as well. 

"No," Dick said. "Short-sleeved." Alfred inputed the command the shirt changed. "And gauntlet style gloves," he added with a smile and the gloves changed as well. "Can they be leather?"

"Of course," Alfred replied. 

"And the pants need to be shorter as well," Dick said. 

"Why?" Bruce asked with a furrowed brow.

"Flexibility and maneuverability," Dick added. He watched as the pants became shorts. "Shorter."

"I'm not really sure they should be," Bruce said. Alfred seemed to agree.

"Bruce, you wear dark blue briefs over your gray spandex. I'm assuming this is spandex. Well, if I have briefs over the spandex, then that cuts down on agility. Every little bit makes the difference," Dick said. He was very earnest.

"So what are you suggesting?" Bruce asked.

"Briefs. Green briefs. I can have an insert in the front for a small protective cup so I don't 'show' anything, but that would give me ultimate flexibility," Dick said flatly.

"Isn't that a bit, revealing?" Bruce asked hesitantly. 

"Is it the most flexible option?" Dick asked. Bruce nodded reluctantly. "And not to put too fine a point on it, but my former profession means that I'm not really shy about what I'm wearing. Trust me," Dick said. They watched as the green tshirt and gauntlets were joined by green briefs. Not long after they were joined by a red vest with yellow laces and a utility belt. 

"Flared shoes, like Hermes, for speed," Dick said. Alfred obliged and pixie boots appeared.

"And a yellow cape," Bruce added. The cape appeared going down to the back of the calves. 

"No, it needs to be shorter, right around here," Dick said, pointed just below the briefs. "Any longer and it's a liability." Bruce was shocked at how much thought Dick seemed to be giving now that he was fully invested. A black banded mask was added and Dick stepped back. 

"Well?" he asked Bruce.

"All we need is a name," Bruce said.

"If you say Batboy, I'm going to punch you," Dick said. 

"Did you have any nicknames when you were with the Flying Graysons?" Alfred asked. 

Dick became silent again at the mention of his family, but then he inhaled deeply and looked resolute. 

"My dad used to call me 'Robin', because of how I flew around. My costume had orange on the chest as well," Dick said. He looked to be quite far away for a moment. When he returned to reality, he saw a yellow 'R' on the chest of the vest in a black circle. 

"Perfect," Bruce said. "Batman and Robin. Has a nice ring to it. Alfred will have the costume ready for trial tomorrow. As for you: rest."

Dick made a face but sauntered back towards the elevator. However, Bruce called him back and showed him how to go up on the pole. Smiling broadly, Dick disappeared upwards in a cloud of steam. Bruce looked at Alfred and again at the costume.

"What do you really think?" Bruce asked. 

"As odd as it may seem, this design will allow him to do his job," Alfred said. "And to be fair, Master Bruce, you wear gray spandex and dark blue briefs on the outside. Has anyone ever mocked you?"

"No, I suppose not," Bruce said. 

"Because they respect you. No one will pay any attention to what Master Dick is wearing if he's effective."

"I hope you're right. Thanks Alfred," Bruce said. He fired up his own pole and ascended back into the mansion. 


	8. In the Pale Moonlight

The idea that Dick would be able to sleep that night was patently absurd. He lay in bed on his back, blue eyes wide open, staring at the high, ornate ceiling of his bedroom. The sounds of Alfred and Bruce, who always stay up later than Dick, had long since died away. The mansion was silent and the only sound Dick could hear was the blood moving gently through his head. He'd kicked the covers off hours ago. For some reason, he was feeling a bit hot that night. His mostly nude body was illuminated slightly by the moonlight that was coming through the windows. Alfred always laid out proper pajamas for Dick to wear to bed, but they seldom made it onto his body and tonight was no exception. Dick had put on a pair of briefs and that was all he was wearing. His lean body, now almost entirely sinewy muscle, was accented only by the thin briefs. Dick felt the contours of them with his right hand, gently tracing the seams with slow intention. He wasn't arousing himself, he was preparing himself. He wanted to feel what would be the difference, potentially, between life and death. He'd also shifted his underwear drawer so that only briefs were on top. In his mind, he'd wear them 24/7. He wanted Dick Grayson and Robin to become inseparable. 

His alarm dinged at 6am like normal. It roused Dick from sleep, so at some point he must've drifted off, although he had no idea when. He didn't feel tired as he sprang out of bed. His bare feet hit the area rug below his bed and he walked over to his bathroom to begin his morning ablutions. He put his gym shorts over his briefs and slid on a tight tshirt before slipping on socks and shoes.

He exited his room and walked quietly down the dark hallway and down the grand staircase. At this point he was lightly jogging towards the gym to get his heart rate up just slightly. He pulled open the door to the large gymnasium to find Bruce at the leg-press. That man never skipped leg day. 

"Good morning," Bruce said as he racked the sled and rolled off the seat. 

"Morning," Dick said. His voice was as low as it would get and sounded scratchy. 

"Restless night?" Bruce asked with a smirk. 

"Should've asked Alfred for something. But I'm not tired," Dick said confidently. 

"You will be," Bruce said. "It'll hit you later."

Dick slid off his shorts, revealing the compression briefs underneath. The tight shirt was tucked into them. Bruce looked a bit uneasy.

"Time to see if my thoughts were correct," Dick said. "I need to get used to the feeling and see what I can do," Dick added. Bruce couldn't help but stare at the mostly smooth legs of Dick. The compression briefs he was wearing were black, like all of his compression gear, and hugged and outlined his pert ass perfectly. The black briefs and the slightly tanned skin of Dick's upper thighs created a contrast that almost mesmerized Bruce's dark brown eyes. His eyes then hovered slightly on the small bulge between his new sidekick's legs before trailing down the upper thighs which were devoid of any visible hair down to his lower calfs where the faint traces of his continuing puberty could be seen. 

"Enjoying the show?" Dick asked. Bruce was shocked back to reality.

"My god, I'm sorry, Dick," Bruce said, shaking his head. "It's just, the sight of a teenager in underwear, specifically briefs, isn't exactly a normal sight." Bruce ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach as Dick smiled. 

"Exactly. And by the time you've mentally undressed me, you'll be in Batcuffs waiting for the police," Dick said with a smirk. 

"Fair point, but I thought the idea was speed and maneuverability, not distraction by way of bodily exposure," Bruce countered. 

"It is. The second part is just a bonus for pervs like you," Dick winked. Bruce rolled his eyes as Dick began his jog around the small track that lined the gym. Bruce stole a glance of Dick's cheeks bouncing slightly in the briefs before returning to his workout. He gritted his teeth and pushed the images out of his head. He wasn't attracted to Dick. He wasn't. He'd seen him naked, helpless, beaten, and half-dead. The images of Dick's body in that van focused Bruce back to reality. He just needed to get used to it. 

When Dick had finished his warmups, Bruce decided to watch his exercises, purely for the purpose of seeing if there was a marked difference. It was unreal. Dick moved in ways Bruce had never seen before. It wasn't just his flexibility, but his confidence. Bruce would've thought the exact opposite, that greater exposure would lead to less confidence, but for Dick it seemed to work in reverse. That would prove a deadly combination, Bruce thought. Not only will he be more agile and thus effective, but more confident. A rare combination that would hopefully reap dividends. 

When their workouts were finished, Bruce put a sweat arm around Dick's sweaty shoulders. He had asked to shed his shirt at one point, but Bruce said no. He'd be wearing a shirt while as Robin so that stayed. 

"That was incredible," Bruce said as the two walked out of the gym. Dick stopped walking and looked up at Bruce. His blue eyes met Bruce's browns. It was one of the most earnest looks Bruce had ever seen.

"Do you mean it?" Dick asked. 

"Absolutely. You were right. I've never seen such agility and confidence. Now, hurry and go shower and I'll meet you in the cave," Bruce said. He smacked the back of Dick's sweaty head as Dick sprinted ahead and up the stairs. Bruce smiled as Dick disappeared into his room. 

"I've got to tell him to stop slamming that door," Bruce muttered as he ascended the stairs slower and with a smile. 

By the time Bruce got to the cave, Dick had been there for awhile.

"It's about freaking time!" Dick said, sounding exasperated. "Old guy here won't show me anything until you get here," Dick said.

"If I wasn't concerned about your health, I'd let Alfred respond to that the way he would like to," Bruce said with a smile. Alfred chuckled as Dick bounced on his feet. He was wearing just a normal, loose-fitting shirt and gym shorts over briefs. 

As Bruce arrived, Alfred pressed a button. The case that contained the Batsuit now had another case next to it. The glass had been opaque and now went clear when Alfred pressed the button. Dick gasped as he saw his creation appear before him. His eyes were wide as the suit was suspended in the case, as if being worn by an invisible man. His eyes brushed over every detail, every seam, every edge. 

Alfred pressed another button and the door to the case opened and the contents fell to the floor. Dick hurriedly scooped them up in his arms and rushed over to a private area to put them on. 

"Thank god," Bruce said quietly as Dick ran off.

"Sir?" Alfred asked.

"I half-assumed he'd just change right in front of us. I'm just glad he's learning some boundaries."

"Right you are, sir."

Dick scurried over behind a wall in the cave where there was a large table. He placed the pieces of the costume on the table and then began to examine each one, laying them out carefully from left to right, in the order in which he'd put them on. First he picked up the green briefs. He couldn't believe how light they felt. It was as if he wasn't holding anything. He stretched them as far as he could, but they appeared as if they'd never stretch enough or ever tear. The only part that wasn't flexible was the inserted cup. Dick looked on the inside of the briefs, just under the waistband, and saw a slot. He removed a thin cup made of carbon fiber. It, too, was incredibly light but would prove strong enough to do its job. Dick assumed the reason it was separate from the briefs and could be removed was for either cleaning or flexibility or both. He inserted the cup back into the briefs and laid them on the far left. 

Next Dick held up the green shirt. It wasn't compression, which was slightly disappointing, but it did appear to be rather form-fitting. It was the same kelly green color as the briefs. He laid the shirt next to the briefs. Next came the red vest. It had an interesting texture to it that Dick couldn't seem to place. He ran his hands over it gently and realized that it was interwoven with carbon fiber threads. However, it didn't lose any kind of flexibility. That would no doubt help him absorb some body blows and maybe even knives. He'd have to ask. 

"It won't stop a bullet!" came the voice of Alfred from around the wall as if he knew, "but it will do well against knives."

"Do you need to get a room?" Bruce joked. Dick ignored him. 

The vest zippered in the back. Dick ran his hand over the 'R' on the chest and smiled. He laid the vest next to the shirt and picked up the utility belt. It, like everything else, was light. Dick popped open a few compartments, and like some magic trick, items that seemed far too large to fit inside came out. When Dick went to put them back, it was if they were compressed or something. Shaking his head in awe of the tech, he placed the belt next to the vest. Now he held up the yellow cape. It felt like silk in his hands and had a little collar as well. It was a simple buttonhole enclosure, but he assumed that despite its apparent softness, the cape would provide protection as well. Dick examined the green leather gauntlets and his pixie boots, marveling again at their lightness. Finally he held the mask in his hands and clenched it tightly, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. 

He stripped off his shirt, socks, shoes, and finally slid his briefs down, standing naked in the cave with only the wall separating him from Bruce and Alfred, although it really didn't matter because both had seem him naked numerous times, but Dick knew they were uncomfortable with it so he was being courteous. 

He slid the briefs up his mostly smooth legs and secured them over his crotch and buttocks. He did a few squats and motions with his legs and felt as if he wasn't wearing anything at all. A rap of his knuckles on the crotch had him test the cup and it seemed to work and protect everything. He then pulled on the shirt over his brown hair and tucked it into the briefs. It seemed to almost adhere to the inside of the waistband, like it wouldn't come untucked unless he wanted it to. He moved his arms about and the shirt didn't inhibit his movements. The sleeves came about halfway down his upper arms. 

He slipped his arms into the vest and, with some difficulty, pulled the zipper up the back. He loved running his hands over the vest. The feeling of the carbon fiber threads gave him shivers. He thumped his torso a few times with his fists and it seemed to hurt his fists more than he could feel anything. He clicked the belt around his narrow waist and then flung the cape over his back, buttoning it closed. He made sure the collar was fixed as well. Then he slid his hands into the gauntlets and slipped his feet into the boots. Finally he put the mask up to his eyes and secured it in the back. The back of the mask felt the same as the adhering of the shirt to the briefs, so it should be secure until Dick wanted to remove it himself. 

Without a mirror, Dick breathed deeply and walked around the wall.

"Well?" Dick asked, holding out his hands.

Bruce's eyes, as well as Alfred's, went wide as they beheld Robin for the first time. Dick was beaming.

"A squire fit for a knight," Alfred said with a smile. Bruce smiled as well. The cape and the rest of the costume actually framed the briefs and bare legs to where they didn't seem that out of place.

"Credit where credit is due," Bruce said, walking up to Dick and looking him over. 

"My thanks to the tailor," Dick said with a smile. "It does seem to take a bit to get into though," Dick said, looking himself over in a mirror. 

"We have a solution to that. This costume here is a display piece and a backup. You have a second one as well. When you slide down the pole, you're changed out of your street clothes and into your costume automatically," Bruce said. 

Dick looked incredulous. 

"And how does that work?" Dick asked. 

"Don't ask," Bruce said with a chuckle. 

"So when do we leave?!" Dick asked pounding a fist into his other glove. "I'm ready to get out there!"

"I can imagine. First thing we'll do is introduce you to Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara at Police HQ. Then tonight, we'll go on patrol. Hopefully we won't have to work," Bruce said. 

"I hope we do!" Dick said, bouncing in his pixie boots.

"Listen, Dick, I know you're excited, but the best city is a crime-free city. In the world we're trying to build, Batman and Robin won't be necessary."

"You're right, Bruce, I'm just excited," Dick said, a little embarrassed. 

"No worries. Now, let me get changed and I'll call HQ and tell them 'we' are on the way," Bruce said with a smile. 

It seemed like an eternity for Bruce to become Batman, but when he was, Robin ran over to the Batmobile and hopped over the door, settling himself in his seat. Just like in the simulations, he began reading the instruments. 

"Atomic batteries to power, turbines to speed," he said with a smile. 

"Roger, ready to move out," Batman replied. Flames shot out of the car as it sped out of the cave. Alfred was left in the silence and emptiness of the cave. He wasn't sure whether to smile or be worried.

"All birds leave the nest," he said to himself, chuckling at the pun. 

The Batmobile sped towards Gotham City and into the heart of downtown. It was now early afternoon and as they drove through the city, many people waved at the sight. There were also a lot of gasps and pointing fingers as they saw someone else, masked, and in the car. Batman didn't wave, but Robin couldn't help but return a few. They arrived at Police HQ and parked right in front. The Dynamic Duo got out of the Batmobile and walked up the stairs. Now people were definitely whispering and pointing at the new brightly-colored crimefighter. 

"Who's this, Batman?" one police officer asked with a smile. 

"This is Robin, my partner in crimefighting," Batman said proudly. 

The police officer did a quick look over Robin's smaller body, clad in bright colors. He then held out his hand. 

"Pleased to meet you, Robin," he said. "Welcome to the fight."

"It won't be a long fight now that I'm here," Robin said cheekily. 

"I like your confidence, young man," the officer said. The Duo continued inside and up the Commissioner's office. 

Inside, Chief O'Hara and Commissioner Gordon were eagerly awaiting their arrival. 

"My goodness, Batman, you have a sidekick now!" Gordon exclaimed. "How did this happen? Where did he come from?"

"Every knight needs a squire," Batman replied as Robin shook the hands of the two other men in the room. "Robin here is very gifted and quite the acrobat."

Robin, as if on cue, did a backflip and then bounded and flipped onto Gordon's desk, standing above the three with his hands on his narrow hips, smiling confidently. 

"A boy wonder!" O'Hara said in his thick Irish accent. Robin flipped off the desk and stood next to Batman. 

"I wanted to introduce him to you so you knew he was with me. Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got crime to fight!" Batman said. He turned and ran out of the room with Robin hot on his heels. 

That night, there were two figures gazing from the rooftops of Gotham City, silhouetted in the pale moonlight. One stood tall, his arms crossed over his burly chest as his long cape billowed in the breeze. Crouched at his side, his shorter cape also fluttering, was his new sidekick, gazing across the city. 


	9. All in a Day's Work

Robin swung again and missed. The goon seemed to be just one step ahead of him. Robin grunted in exertion as he attempted to sweep the leg, but again the goon was just out of reach. Robin's legs weren't that long after all. The Boy Wonder straightened up to have another go when he received a massive blow from behind. One of the goons had swung his bag of jewels and it collided with the back of Robin's head. The teen hero staggered forward into the wall, dazed slightly. The goon nearest came at him, arms flailing to grab the smaller boy, but Robin was too quick. He ducked out of the way and before the goon knew it, was behind him. Robin delivered a quick combination of punches to the kidneys and the goon groaned and crumpled to the ground. 

Robin spun around quickly and managed to avoid another swing of the bag from the goon that had clocked him just a moment earlier. The scene was chaos. Batman and Robin were taking on the Joker and three of his goons. It had only taken Robin two weeks on the job to go up against the most dangerous criminal Batman faced. The first two weeks had been just gangs and what Bruce called 'normal crime'. Then the Joker escaped and everything changed. Dick had never seen Bruce that intense. The two would pour over reports into the wee hours of the night to try to grasp a part of whatever Joker was planning. 

It was in Police HQ that the Dynamic Duo had come up with a possibility. The Gotham Museum had opened a new exhibit, a Comedians Hall of Fame, most notably without the Joker. Batman knew that the Joker would strike the museum as payback, and the museum happened to house a large jewel collection. The Dynamic Duo closed the museum early and secured it tight with police guards, but then realized that the Joker could be already inside. 

The Duo had swept in to find the Joker and his goons cleaning out the cases. After the initial repartee, the fight had begun. Unfortunately for the Dynamic Duo, the room with the jewels had a low ceiling and was filled with display cases. This severely limited Robin's mobility and thus made him fight normally like everyone else. Robin was well-trained, but still was ultimately not very strong. 

Batman and the Joker were locked in combat, trading fierce blows. The Joker was a formidable fighter and was giving Batman a run for his money, laughing the entire time. One goon had been dispatched early by Batman and was groaning on the floor. The other two had gone after Robin and he was now facing the last one as the other was still recovering from Robin's combination blows. 

Robin ducked another swing of the bag and delivered a punch to the man's midsection, but it wasn't very powerful. Another quick series of punches proved equally ineffective. The man chuckled a dumb laugh and grabbed Robin by the throat. Robin clutched at his hands as the man cut off the air to his head. Before Robin could pass out, the goon threw the smaller sidekick against the wall. Robin collided with it hard, seeing stars as his head led the way. On the other side of the room, the Joker, who had been choking Batman as well, threw the Caped Crusader against the wall in similar fashion. However, this collision caused a jeweled sword to fall from the wall and collide with Batman's cowled head. The heavy blow knocked Batman unconscious and he slumped to the ground in a heap. 

The Joker laughed maniacally as the goon who had thrown Robin and the one whom Robin had previously taken out grabbed the Boy Wonder tightly by his toned arms. Robin struggled in their grip but it was no use. They held him tightly and even if he did break their grip, he was no match for the four of them. The other goon had gotten to his feet as well.

"Well boys it looks like we have two more jewels to add to our collection: Batman and Robin! Come, come! We have some diamond-cutting to do with them!" the Joker laughed. Robin gritted his teeth in feeble exertion. The goon that Robin couldn't seem to hurt grabbed both of the boy's wrists and held them tightly behind his back and put a burly hand on his caped shoulder. 

"Try anything and I'll crush you," he growled into Robin's ear who gulped reactively. The other two goons lifted Batman's hulking body from the floor, one by his legs and the other under his arms, and carried him out of the room. The Joker danced with a bag of jewels in front as Batman was carried behind him and Robin was perp-walked at the end. 

However, Batman's unconsciousness was short-lived. He peeked open an eye to gauge the situation and then surreptitiously dropped a flash bang, warning Robin to close his eyes just in time. 

"Let's go!" the Joker screamed in the smoke-filled chaos, and by the time the smoke cleared, only Batman and Robin stood in the hallway. 

"Are you alright?" Robin asked Batman. 

"Yes, you?" Batman asked rubbing his cowl a bit. 

"Just my pride...and my head," Robin said with a smirk. 

"Let's get back to the Batcave. This is only the beginning. We need to apprehend the Joker as soon as possible," Batman said. The two rushed back downstairs to the Batmobile and raced back to the cave to begin tracking the Joker. 

Back in the Batcave, Dick sat in his chair, leaning back with an icepack on the back of his head. He had removed his mask and his boots, kicking his bare feet up on the table. 

"I'm sorry, Bruce," Dick said as Bruce typed on the computer, wearing the Batman costume minus the cowl and cape. 

"Sorry for what?" Bruce asked, stopping his typing and looking back. Dick sat up, putting his feet on the floor and putting the icepack on the table. 

"Sorry that I couldn't be more helpful back there."

"I don't know what you mean," Bruce said, looking confused. 

"I should've been able to help you with the Joker," Dick said. "I just...I just couldn't handle those goons. I didn't have room to move."

Bruce smiled.

"Dick, that's going to happen. You've been lucky these first two weeks. All of the normal crime we've been stopping has been in places that play to your strengths, but you can't always pick your battlefield. You just need to learn to adapt. It's only been two weeks and you've already become a formidable foe for Gotham's underworld. If you weren't, they'd just mock you, not fight you. Just keep getting better, that's all I can ask."

Dick smiled weakly and stood up. He grabbed the icepack and slipped his boots on and grabbed his mask. 

"I'm going to head upstairs. Gnight, Bruce."

"Goodnight, Dick," Bruce said, turning back towards the computer. Dick ascended in a cloud of steam back to the mansion. When he emerged, he was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved tshirt. He still thought that whole system was weird, but it was also so cool. He tossed the icepack back in the freezer and walked slowly upstairs. When he reached his room, Alfred was laying out pajamas. 

"Good evening, sir," Alfred said kindly. "I've drawn a warm bath. Please use it before bed."

"Sure thing, Alfred," Dick said, stripping off the shirt and tossing it in the dirty clothes hamper. "Hey, Alfred, I've got a question."

"Yes, Master Dick?"

"You're the medical expert, right? Do you have anything that would, um, remove the hair on my lower legs? Now that it's starting to darken a little, I think it...well...just doesn't look 'clean' if that makes any sense? I mean, I don't want to wear tights, obviously, because this design is perfect, but I want it to look, I don't know, like I'm wearing flesh tights. Does that make sense? Is that weird?"

Alfred chuckled at Dick's nervous-behavior. He'd come a long way in a short time about being very open about his body. 

"There's always shaving," Alfred said. 

"Yeah, I know. But I don't need to shave my face yet or anywhere else, and that means I'd have to shave all the time, and then there's the burn, the bumps. I mean, I will if there's nothing else," Dick stammered. 

"I think I might have something. One moment, please."

Alfred disappeared out of the room. Dick stripped down to the briefs he was wearing and then out of those, wrapping a towel around his narrow waist before Alfred returned. He was carrying a small bottle that was unmarked. 

"This may do the trick. I came up with the idea for undercover spies to not have to shave for several days or weeks if necessary, depending on their cover. Apply it to the desired areas before your bath and the water should do the rest. It should last for several weeks at a time given your age," Alfred said.

"You were holding out on me," Dick said with a smile.

"Whatever do you mean?" Alfred asked. 

"You suggested shaving even though you had the perfect product," Dick replied. 

"It's not the easiest to make, so I might have been guarding it a little," Alfred replied with a grin. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Alfred, and thank you."

Dick unwrapped the towel when he was in the bathroom and stood naked next to the steaming water. He put some of the lotion on his lower leg directly and spread it all over his calf and lower leg. He did the same with the other. He felt an odd tingling sensation. He looked at his naked thighs and decided that the few blond hairs that really couldn't be seen might as well go too and he applied more to his thighs. By the time he was done, each leg was covered from his pelvis down to his ankles. He put the bottle down and stepped into the warm water. It felt so good as he slid his slight frame fully into it. He could feel his legs tingling all the way up and down and it felt as if someone was lightly running their nails over his skin. He put his head back against the side of the tub and closed his eyes as the sensations took over. His cock began to grow hard as the sensations continued and Dick absent-mindedly began to stroke himself underwater. 

It didn't take long for Dick to finish. He moaned softly as he did, shooting the warm water. It had been so long since Dick had jerked off that he had forgotten how good it felt. In the furthest reaches of his mind, Dick missed a part of his old life. But as he came back to the present, he looked in the grand bathroom and remembered fully where he was and now who he was. He pulled the drain and the water rushed out of the tub. Dick stood up and looked down and his blue eyes went wide. His legs were completely smooth. He ran his hands over them and marveled at the smooth softness of his own skin. He'd never been turned on by his own body before, but even he had to admit they felt nice. 

The next day, Bruce and Dick slid down the poles and into the Batcave. They were on their way to Joker's lair. They had tracked him to an abandoned toy factory on the outskirts of town. As Robin hopped into the Batmobile, Batman slid into the driver's seat. They went through the checklist and Batman glanced over at Robin as he buckled his seatbelt. 

"Did you shave your legs?" Batman asked.

"Sort of. Alfred's thing. It's for uniformity and more speed. Every little bit helps," Robin said with a smile. Batman shrugged and the Batmobile sped off. 

The factory was large and open, a perfect place for Robin's skills. The Joker had upped the ante, though, and had six goons with him this time. The fighting was fiercer than the day before, and Robin was still a little sore from that. However, that's what training was for. His acrobatic skills were on full display as he dispatched three goons all on his own. Batman was occupying the Joker which meant the six goons were on Robin. As the three lay on the ground, Robin flipped over one who was attacking, however, a wild thrust of the goon's arm connected with Robin's pixie boot and broke the momentum. Robin hit the floor hard instead of sticking the landing like he normally would have. Two goons were on him immediately, pinning him down as the third stood over him. 

"My my, I like the looks of this here boy," he said in a thick southern drawl. He ran his rough hands up Robin's smooth legs as Robin squirmed in the others' grip. "Oh yeah, he's a fighter. That's good. I like fighters. After the boss kills the Bat, you and me are gonna have some fun, Boy Wonder. You're a prized pig in the criminal underworld" he said with a toothy smile. "Feel his legs, boys," he said to the others. Robin wasn't distracted by their touches. They probably assumed that he wasn't used to men touching him and thus would be reviled or disgusted or distracted or all three, but they didn't know Dick. As soon as the other two shifted their grips, Robin spun out of their hold and bataranged the southerner. He collapsed to the ground with the batarang sticking out of his shoulder. The other two growled as Robin crouched in a fighting stance, but their attacks were reckless and not well-planned. Robin easily dodged both and with his lightening speed, used batrope to corral both together. As they struggled, they received a face-full of Batgas. Robin smiled as their eyes rolled back and they sank to the ground. 

Robin stood over the three with his hands on his narrow hips, smiling broadly. Just then a large hand clapped onto his shoulder. Robin gasped and spun around, only to find Batman standing there. Behind him, the Joker was out cold against a wall. 

"Never let your guard down, even in victory," Batman said sternly, before a smile crept across his face. "Well done. Let's secure them and call the police."

At the top of the stairs, the two parted ways, each to their own room. 

"All in a day's work," Bruce called as he closed his door. He slept soundly that night knowing the Joker was back behind bars. 

Dick, however, was restless again. He kept circling over the words that goon had said to him, that he was a 'prized pig in the criminal underworld'. What could that mean? Everything seemed to be going so fast now. Dick had been in the mansion for 3 months, and in that time he'd been healed, trained, and become Robin, the Boy Wonder. But that last part had only been two weeks ago. Could he really have become noticed by criminals who enjoyed, well, what Dick had done before? How many criminals like that were out there?

Dick tossed and turned, debating whether or not to mention it to Bruce, but when he awoke the next morning, decided against it. He'd see how things continued to play out. He did make the resolution, though, that if he ever caught wind of a comment like that again, he'd say something immediately. 


	10. Darker than Darkness

Robin slowly opened the door of the Batmobile as it spun slowly in the cave, turning around to face the exit. He exhaled loudly as Batman also exited the Batmobile. There was a slight limp in Robin's gait as he headed towards his pole. 

"I can't debrief tonight, Bruce, I've gotta go see Alfred about this leg," Dick said as he made it to the pole

"I understand. We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight," Bruce said, sitting down at the Batcomputer. 

Dick ascended in a cloud of steam, eyes closed as he moved upwards and was changed back into his street clothes. The last month had been exhausting. They had been put in three slow-moving deathtraps since they put away the Joker. Penguin had tried to drop an asteroid on them. Catwoman had tried to fry them alive, and Riddler and tried to spin them to death on giant fans. He didn't know what it was about villains and crazy means of killing them, but it was always slightly interesting to see their ingenuity, even if it never worked. 

Dick limped up the stairs, still reflecting on his six weeks as Robin. Bruce had noted that criminals seemed to be getting more desperate, which was both good and bad. It was good because they were scared. It was bad because it could make them more dangerous. Robin was helping to turn the tide and this gave Dick a boost of confidence. Added to that, he hadn't had any more issues after the night in the Joker's lair with unsettling comments about him. 

Dick walked into his room where Alfred was already waiting with a training table set up. Dick stripped down to his briefs and climbed onto the table. Alfred began to push and prod, moving Dick's leg around to see if there was any serious damage. One of Riddler's goons had hit Dick with a pipe during a flip and had caused him to land awkwardly on his leg. The pain radiated to his hip and back down again. Luckily his adrenaline kept him in the fight, but as soon as they were finished, the pain returned. 

"It appears to be just a deep bruise. It'll be tender for a few days, but there shouldn't be any damage. It will be painful, but you can't injure it any worse," Alfred said, setting Dick's leg down gently. 

"What about discoloration?" Dick asked. 

"Surprisingly I don't think so. The damage is down deep so there will be only mild discoloration around your hip flexor. I'm not sure if it will be covered by your briefs or not. It depends on how big it gets. We'll know more tomorrow."

"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said, as Alfred left the room and Dick went to the steaming bath already prepared. 

The next day, a mild bruise formed on his left hip. He asked Bruce for a few days to recover and they agreed. It was mostly due to the pain, but also because Dick didn't want a visible bruise to be seen by any criminals. Dick used the ensuing days to apply a new batch of oil to his legs and simply stretch. It felt good to relax and loosen up. He got some reading done and even Bruce took the time off to relax a bit as well. They played several games of chess (Dick was terrible at it) and had a few movie nights as well. Ironically, it was probably the most enjoyable time since Dick had arrived at the mansion all of those weeks ago. The criminal element seemed to be laying low while the Duo recovered, so everyone was playing their part. 

After a few days, the bruise disappeared and Dick felt pretty good. He wasn't at 100%, but he could fight through the pain. It took a vigorous training session to prove it to Bruce who agreed that they could resume their patrols. 

That night, the Duo slid down their poles and headed to the Batmobile. Spitting fire, they sped off into the night. The air was cool as the open-air car sped through the streets towards downtown. Their patrols were randomized, or so criminals were supposed to believe. They entered the busier portion of downtown and slowed to a safe speed. There were whistles and waves from drunks and sober people alike as the crimefighters rolled through the busy streets. Friday nights were always ruckus in this part of Gotham. 

As Batman and Robin got back into the Batmobile after breaking up a fight outside a bar, the red phone blinked. 

"Yes, Commissioner," Batman said as the Batmobile headed back onto its route. 

"Batman, we've just gotten a report of suspicious activity at Gotham Studio 12," Gordon said.

"That's the new nightclub that just opened, correct?" Batman asked, even though he knew it was. 

"Correct. The report mentioned something about possibly nefarious folks in strange costumes. Since I knew it couldn't be you, I can only assume the worst. Normally for something like this we'd dispatch a unit, but since King Tut and the Minstrel are currently at large, although not causing trouble as of yet, I thought it was safer to inform you."

"Right you are, Commissioner. This is a job for experienced crimefighters who specialize in the strange and nefarious. We'll check it out," Batman said, and hung up the phone.

"What is it, Batman?" Robin asked earnestly as Batman adjusted their route. 

"Possible trouble at Gotham Studio 12. It sounds like King Tut or the Minstrel. We'll have to find out."

Robin pounded a fist into his other glove in excitement. He hated the dull patrols on Friday nights that usually just involved bar fights. 

The Batmobile turned a corner and headed down a street with lots of flashing neon signs. The new nightclub was brightly lit up with a long line of people waiting to get in. Several bouncers were outside as the Batmobile pulled up in front. 

"You can't park here," a bouncer said in a monotone voice. 

"I'm terribly sorry, but we're here on official police business," Batman said politely, although with a bit of frustration. 

"Pull ahead to over there," he replied, pointing about 50 feet ahead. Batman nodded courteously and complied. He parked the Batmobile and Robin engaged the anti-theft device. The two hopped out and headed back towards the nightclub. The same bouncer held out a burly hand to stop them. 

"Sorry, but you have to be 21 to enter. And unless he's got ID, I don't think he's 21," he said, gesturing to Robin. Even if he did have ID, there's no way Robin could pass for 21. Not with his baby face and smooth legs. 

"Sorry, Robin, but we can't break the law. You'll have to wait in the Batmobile," Batman said quietly. "When I'm inside, I'll open up a communication line with you. If there's any trouble, come in through the back entrance if you have to. Or just run past these guys." Robin nodded, now praying for trouble so he could do something, and trudged back to the Batmobile in disappointment. 

He leaned against the passenger side door with his arms folded across his slim chest and his smooth legs crossed. Batman hadn't been gone 30 seconds when Robin heard a scream to his left. He assumed a ready-stance as a woman came running around a corner. She ran straight up to him in a panic.

"Oh help! Help! That man! He stole my purse and threatened to stab me!" she cried. Robin saw the raw fear in her eyes and looked in the direction she was pointing. A man had sped out of the alley and was heading further down the street. Robin calculated quickly that he'd catch him no problem, and sped off in a colored flash, pixie boots pounding the pavement. 

He followed the man down the street where the lights began to grow dimmer and the man suddenly shot sideways into an alley. Robin turned the corner, almost upon him, when suddenly he stopped in his tracks. In front of him stood a large man, overweight, smiling broadly with his arms folded across his chest. Robin's arms were out to his side as he stopped suddenly and balanced himself and he looked up at the large men. 

"How nice to see you again," the man said. Robin was confused. He didn't recognize him. There was something about him that seemed familiar but he couldn't place it. In his confusion, he wasn't prepared. The man, with quickness not associated with a man of his size and girth, swung a mass punch that connected with Robin's smooth jaw. Robin saw stars as his masked eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed onto the pavement. The man bent over and unclipped the utility belt from Robin's waist and tossed it in a nearby dumpster. Then he lifted Robin's limp body into his arms and carried him out of the alley and around a corner to a waiting van. He tossed Robin in the back and climbed in with him, tapping the driver's seat and telling the driver to go. The van sped off into the night. 

When Robin awoke, he was restrained. His smooth ankles were taped tightly above his pixie boots and his gloved hands were taped tightly behind his back. He was sitting against the wall of the moving van with several strips of tape around his mouth as well. He began to struggle slightly as he saw the large man sitting across from him. 

"Your struggling is a formality, I know, but please stop," he said, rolling his eyes. Robin refused and continued nonetheless. The man reached over and slapped Robin hard across his face. This temporarily stopped the movement. 

"I must say I'm surprised. To think someone like you would become a crimefighter is quite impressive. I'm also a big fan of the costume you designed. It's like a tease to everyone to desire a taste of forbidden fruit," the man said. Robin looked confused and a bit panicked. "You know, when Batman interrupted our last encounter, I figured my life was over. I figured I'd be in prison for the rest of my life or something. But luckily for me, Batman was too distracted by you to do anything with me. I woke up alone in the van but there were no police. You were just gone. I didn't question it."

Robin's masked eyes were wide now. It was him. It was the man. He didn't recognize him because of the drugs and still didn't, but it had to be him. 

"And so I began to work as a freelancer for a new man in town. Someone who appreciates the finer things like I do. A man with means and ways to control insolent children who don't realize their proper place is service to their elders. And I've been successful. Quite successful. But not as successful as I knew I would be when I saw you on the news for the first time. You see, masks work only for people who aren't looking. They only work with people who don't obsess over faces. I know your face, boy. I searched for you since the moment I saw you. And this little mask doesn't hide your identity from such a big fan like me," the man said, pulling Robin's mask off his face. Dick was now trembling. 

"The thing is, the man I work for now specializes in prostitutes, not just playthings. It does him and his selective clientele nothing if the product doesn't know what he or she is doing. And so while you would always have been a high-priced good, it would take so long to train you up before he sold you that you'd no doubt become too old for their selective tastes. But I know things no one else does about you, boy. I know that you're a professional. You're ready to service now. You've probably been dying to return to work since you were 'rescued' by the big, bad Bat. That's why you dress the way you do. You're begging for someone to come and use you the way you were designed to be used," he said, sliding his thick hands up Dick's smooth legs and grabbing his bulge. 

"Oh, what's this? Oh this won't do at all," he said. He pulled at the waistband of Dick's briefs and removed the cup, tossing it behind him. He snapped the briefs back and pawed at Dick's now-exposed bulge. Dick moaned slightly as he grew, unintentionally, due to the man's ministrations. 

"You see, this is what you want. This is who you are. And when my boss finds out that you're a trained boy of the night, your price tag and my commission will be through the roof. So I thank you," he said with a smile. He put Dick's mask back on his head and sat back against the wall. 

"Luckily for you, the merchandise must be unharmed and untouched upon delivery. And if I wouldn't be able to retire on your commission alone, I'd just keep you all to myself. I'm sure Batman will be coming back out soon to find you missing. The call I put into the police sure did the trick, though. I wish I could tell him not to be so predictable in the future."

***

Back at the nightclub, Batman emerged and walked back to the Batmobile. There was nothing of value inside. When he didn't see Robin he began to look around, but still saw nothing. He pulled out his communicator but received only static. 

"Have you seen Robin?" he asked a passerby. 

"Who?" the drunk person responded with a smile.

Batman exhaled in frustration. He hopped into the Batmobile and turned on the tracking system. A small light lit up only a few hundred yards ahead. He fired up the Batmobile and drove towards the alley. When he emerged, he heard a small beeping sound coming from inside the dumpster. He peered in only to find Robin's utility belt on top of a pile of trash bags. Batman gulped as he pulled the belt out and looked at it. Without another thought, he got back in the Batmobile and headed back to the Batcave. Whatever was going on, it was very bad. 


	11. Changing Face of Evil

The van sped along toward its unknown destination. In the back, the large, fat man and Robin sat facing each other in silence. Well, it wasn't total silence and Robin wished it was. In fact, for the first time in his life, he wished that he'd been knocked unconscious. The man had pulled Robin's briefs down around his taped ankles and was slowly jerking off to the sight of Robin's limp cock nestled between his smooth legs. Robin had thought about trying to hide it from him, but even though he assumed he wouldn't be harmed by the man for fear of losing money, there wasn't anything to say he couldn't remove more of his costume. 

Robin's masked eyes were closed as he was forced to listen to the occasional grunt and the squelching sound of the man's fat hand around his cock. It was a sound Dick had heard more times than he cared to admit, but there was something about this time that made him truly want to wretch. Luckily the van began to slow and the man was denied his climax. He didn't seem to mind, though, as he zipped his cock back in his pants. Robin allowed his body to go limp so the man could also reassemble his costume. Robin opened his eyes once the briefs were back in place and saw the man near the back doors of the van. 

When the van stopped, he opened them and there was only darkness that Robin could see. They hadn't really been traveling for too long. The driver, another large, fat man, handed the man in the van some handcuffs that were on a long chain. The man in the van hopped out, turned around, and grabbed Robin by his pixie boots and unceremoniously dragged the young hero towards the back of the van. He produced a knife from his pocket and began to cut the tape on Robin's ankles while the other man held Robin's smooth ankles in a grip stronger than a vice. Robin strategically chose not to struggle when his ankles were temporarily freed. The cuffs were locked in place, the cold steel sending a slight shiver up Robin's hairless legs. Robin was then pulled again, this time out of the van. His booted feet hit the ground and the driver stood behind him with both hands on his caped shoulders. His grip there was just as powerful and slightly painful. Had Robin not been so determined to put on a brave face, he might have cried out slightly from the pain. 

The man who had been in the back with him walked away and disappeared through a door. The driver pushed slightly and Robin, taking the hint, began to shuffle forward, his feet barely able to move in their cuffed state. Robin took a quick survey of his surroundings and saw that it was some kind of indoor loading dock, so it must be a warehouse of some sort. He tried to control his breath, which was hard given the tape surrounding his mouth. His heart was racing as he was pushed through the doorway. 

Further along, the man from the back of the van had knocked on an office door in the dark hallway. Robin could barely see him as he disappeared into the doorway. Although, given his current course, Robin assumed he would see inside the office quite soon. 

Inside the office, a man in a large fur coat sat at an antique wooden desk going over a hand-written ledger. He looked up as the large man entered. 

"Good evening, Butch," he said in an English accent. "What do you have for me today? More street urchins?"

Butch exhaled in excitement as well as frustration. He knew how the doctor felt about the deliveries he'd been making from the playground. 

"Sandman, tonight I've got the crown jewel," he said with a toothy grin. 

Sandman put his ledger down and looked at Butch with skeptical eyes. 

"You'll forgive me, Butch, if I don't exactly leap at your interpretation of jewels," Sandman said with a sigh. Just then, Robin rounded the corner, held tightly by Butch's associate. Sandman's eyes went wide and he slowly stood up. "Oh my..."

He looked at Robin from head to toe. He took in the smooth, brown hair that was still neatly parted despite his ordeal and the bright blue eyes, masked by the material but unable to mask the state of fear and trepidation that the Boy Wonder was feeling. The smooth, toned arms that were taped behind him under his bright yellow cape, the narrow torso covered in red and green, the tight briefs that now showed the outline of his soft cock, and the hairless legs that ended in green pixie boots. Sandman came out from behind his desk and approached the young hero. He was much taller than Robin, maybe by about 6 inches or so. Robin looked up with false confidence. It was a look Sandman had seen hundreds of times before. He reached out a warm hand and grabbed Robin by his chin. Robin snapped his head away out of his grasp and Sandman smiled. 

"Butch I will admit that this is most impressive. I won't ask you how you came by this prize, but I dare say that the training regimen for an upstanding and well-bread boy like this will take much time and cost much. So even though your fee will be substantial, I'm afraid it won't be as much as you hoped," Sandman said, looking over at Butch. But Butch still smiled. 

"That's what makes this jewel the crown jewel," Butch said. "You see, I didn't just go after him because he's gorgeous. I mean, you're right, by the time you had him trained enough to auction, Batman would no doubt be breathing down your neck. But I know this kid. I knew him before he became Robin the Boy Wonder. He worked for Laura."

Sandman, who had turned back towards Robin as Butch was speaking suddenly looked back at the large man. 

"For how long?" Sandman asked, voice almost a whisper in excitement. 

"Months, I'd guess. He's already fully trained."

Sandman was now visibly shaking in excitement as he looked back over Robin's body. 

"Butch, I agree with you. This is indeed the crown jewel. Of course, I'll need to test the merchandise first to make sure that you're telling the truth. But if you are, then this will be by far the greatest find in our history." He turned back to Robin who was looking both confused and scared. 

"Robin, I think it's only fair to let you in on this. You see, my name is the Sandman. I take that name because I help children go to sleep so they can serve those who purchase them. For years now I've helped the world's most elite acquire what they desire. And it's all quite simple. I have a powder which allows the subject to be totally obedient no matter what. It's not permanent, but will last for several hours depending on the amount used. Now normally, this would do the trick if someone just wants an outlet for their own desires. But what makes our operation the greatest is that we train all of our products in the service of their soon-to-be owners. That way, when they're put to sleep, they not only obey without question, but are fully capable and skilled at whatever may be asked of them. This, of course, requires much time and expense on our part and thus the price must reflect that. In your case, the price will be high because of who you are and because of your supposed skills. Real world experience always plays better. The street urchins that Butch has been supplying from the playground have very little, but some. But I knew Laura before she was killed by some angry clients a few weeks ago. She only had the best."

Robin flinched slightly at hearing that Laura was dead. What she did was reprehensible, but she had given him a life, or at least what he had considered a life until Bruce had rescued him from it. 

"But either way, I need to make sure that the merchandise is ready for our valued clients," Sandman finished. He produced a stethoscope that was around his neck. Robin was held still by the large man behind him as Sandman puffed a white powder onto Robin's face. Robin tried not to breathe but a sudden pinch on the back of his neck by the large man made him wince and inhale through his nose. His mind immediately washed. He felt warm all throughout his body and slightly sluggish, although he still felt he could perform any move he needed to. He was still completely aware of his situation and wanted desperately to escape, but every time he tried to make himself do something, nothing happened. 

"You may release him," Sandman said. The large man released Robin's shoulders and Robin instantly tried to move, but no matter what his mind wanted his body to do, it wouldn't obey. Instead he simply stared straight ahead. His mouth was untaped as were his hands. When his hands were free he tried to punch Sandman, but his gloved hands simply hung at his sides. The cuffs were removed as well and now Robin stood motionless and unbound in front of Sandman. Butch and the other man left the office and closed the door. 

"Now, Robin, let's see how this works. If asked you the true identity of Batman, would you tell me?" Sandman asked, sitting on the edge of his desk. 

"Yes," Robin heard himself say, despite his mind screaming 'no'. 

"I don't really care, but that will be a good question for the auction and will definitely increase your price. How long did you work for Laura?"

"Four or Five months," Robin replied mechanically. 

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"And your name?"

"Dick Grayson."

"Very good, very good," Sandman said. He removed his fur coat to reveal a shirt, tie, and dress pants. He then began to remove all of those as well until he stood naked before Robin who just stared ahead despite his mind wanting him to run as fast and as far away as possible. The older man, who was in surprisingly good shape all things considered, stood before Robin with his old cock half-hard. 

"Kneel before me and get me hard, Boy Wonder," Sandman said casually. Robin walked forward slowly and knelt down on his bare knees. He opened his mouth, grabbing the base of his cock with his gauntlet, and began to give Sandman a blowjob. Robin's mind kept telling himself to stop, but it was no use. Sandman immediately began to moan as Robin's latent skills began to resurface. His body did what it knew how to do, and that was pleasure older men. It wasn't long until Sandman was fully hard, but Robin didn't stop. Sandman leaned back against his desk as Robin went to work, fisting the boy's brown hair as he moaned in pleasure. He couldn't believe how good Robin was at this. Robin's own cock began to grow in his tight briefs as his baser instincts took over. 

Eventually Sandman pulled him off. 

"Stand up," Sandman ordered. Robin obeyed without question. "Slowly remove your costume, but keep your mask on."

Robin took a step back and began a strip tease. Sandman watched incredulously as Robin put on an expert show when he was only asked to remove his costume. He couldn't believe what he was naturally able to do. He watched as the cape was dropped, the vest unzipped, and the gloves and boots slipped off. The shirt was slowly pulled upward, revealing his smooth, slightly defined torso. Sandman slowly stroked as he watched the show. Finally Robin slipped his briefs off, revealing his 5.5" cock which was at full mast. When he was finished, his body returned to a standing position, as if some kind of program had ended and he reset. 

Sandman's hands were placed on Robin's smooth shoulders and they went from there, exploring his toned arms, his smooth chest, pert nipples, and burgeoning abs. Now it was Sandman's turn to kneel as he lightly scratched his way down Robin's torso. He planted kisses on Robin's abs before dipping his tongue inside Robin's smooth navel. He then opened his mouth and took Robin's entire length into his mouth, savoring the taste and the moans from the Boy Wonder. Sandman gripped Robin's firm ass cheeks tightly as he blew the sidekick. Robin's hands went to Sandman's gray hair as he thrust slightly into Sandman's mouth. 

It didn't take long for Robin's abs to tense and when Sandman's hands found their way to Robin's smooth hole and one finger slipped in, Robin cried out as he blew his load into Sandman's mouth. Sandman gulped down every drop, sucking the boy dry. However, he continued to suck as Robin began to whimper. The sensitivity drove Robin crazy as Sandman didn't relent. He pulled Robin down until the boy was on his back on the floor and Sandman was fiercely jerking the softening hero who cried out. Sandman smiled as the boy squirmed and screamed. Finally he relented and Robin's body went back to being motionless on the floor. 

However, it wasn't motionless for long as Sandman lifted Robin's ankles to expose his smooth hold. He lined his cock up with it and gently pushed in, eliciting more moans from the Boy Wonder. He began to thrust, gently at first but with mounting heat and passion as Robin's beauty and skill overtook him. The longer he fucked, the harder Robin began to get. He couldn't believe the boy's stamina. 

"Jerk yourself while I fuck you and cum for me," Sandman growled. Robin complied and began to jerk himself off as Sandman intensified his pace. As Sandman held himself in on one final thrust and exploded into Robin, Robin cried out as a small orgasm of his own followed and cum dripped out of his smaller cock and down into his small patch of pubic hair. Sandman breathed heavily before slowly pulling out. He ran his finger through Robin's pubes to get some cum on it and held the finger to Robin's mouth who licked it clean without being told to. 

Sandman slowly rose to his feet, shaking slightly as Robin lay motionless on his back. Sandman returned to his desk and dressed himself again before picking up the phone. 

"Call a special auction for tomorrow night. Bill it as the greatest find in history. Tell them it's a 'Wonder Boy'. That should get their attention. Also, I need someone to come and get Robin. Clean him up and take him to a cell. Thanks," Sandman said, hanging up the phone. "Get up, Robin," he commanded. Robin slowly got to his feet and stood, naked and waiting. There was a knock on the door and two large men in black suits entered. They stared in awe at the masked, naked boy in the room and at Sandman who was still short of breath. He just nodded and one of them put a hand on Robin's bare shoulder and walked him out of the room while another grabbed the pieces of his costume and followed after them. 

The entire time, Robin was screaming in his head, but nothing happened. He wished that Sandman's powder made him not realize what was going on. That would be bad enough. But the fact that he is fully aware but simply unable to do anything made it absolute torture. The two men bathed Robin, removing his mask to do so but they didn't care or know who Dick Grayson even was. Then they took Robin's naked body to a jail cell and locked the door behind him. The costume was folded neatly on a table outside the cell so it wouldn't get dirty before the next day. They told Robin to go to bed, and Robin obediently laid down on the cot in the cell. It was several hours before Robin's maskless eyes shot open in the dark. He could move now on his own, but unfortunately it was too late for him to do anything. 


	12. What was past can Never be Forgotten

Somehow Dick had managed to fall asleep on the cot. It wasn't very comfortable, he was scared for his life, he knew that the next time someone saw him, he'd no doubt be put under that powder stuff again and then sold to some fucked up bidder. And yet through all of that, he was asleep. Perhaps the exhaustion was mental, perhaps it was spiritual. Perhaps deep down, Dick was coming to the realization that he was returning to a life that he was destined to live. His brief stint inside Bruce's home and as his faithful sidekick was an aberration, something to be a footnote in his mind as he lived out the rest of his days as someone's slave. Or at least until he was too old to be found attractive by his buyer and then either killed or dumped somewhere. 

Whatever the reason, Robin was awoken by a banging on the cell door. He groaned as his body was sore from the uncomfortable cot. There were two large men in dark suits and sunglasses standing outside the door. 

"Get up," the said flatly. Dick contemplated some resistance, but being completely naked somehow made him feel like he would be at a disadvantage. Not bothering with any kind of modesty, he swung his bare feet off the cot and stood up, facing the two men completely naked. The one who had spoken beckoned him with a finger to come closer. He complied and walked towards the cell door. When he reached it, the other guard, with lightening speed, reached in and grabbed the back of Dick's head, forcing his face between two bars. The guard who spoke then sprayed Dick's face with the powder and the nightmare began anew. His head was released and he stood upright, motionless and waiting. 

They unlocked the door and beckoned him to walk out, which he did without hesitation. 

"Get dressed," they said, pointing to the folded costume on the table. Without a word, Dick became Robin again as he finished dressing by sliding the mask over his head. The two guards each put a hand on Robin's caped shoulders and walked him quietly out of the holding area and down a dark hallway. They approached a door and another guard stood in front of it. He opened it and the two guards marched an obedient Boy Wonder through the door. Robin could hear the murmuring of many, many voices now and knew he was on a stage.

In the middle of the stage was the Sandman, dressed in his fur coat and standing at a podium with a gavel. He was addressing an unseen audience as Robin stood behind the side curtains with hands on his shoulders. The words Sandman was saying seemed to be a daze to Robin who was trying to come to terms with his situation. 

"And added to all of that, this lovely 16-year-old, albeit a bit old, is smooth almost all over and perfectly sized. A caucasian male of particular quality, he's lived most of his adolescence as a boy of the night, and I can personally vouch for his training. He will satisfy your every desire, and I can say with certainty that he is one of a kind. I present to you, my devoted clients, Robin the Boy Wonder!" Sandman finished saying. 

There was an audible gasp as Robin was walked onto the stage. The two guards turned him to face the crowd and then left. Robin stood in full costume apart from his belt, in front of a room full of people who were gasping and pointing, talking excitedly. All of them were wearing black hoods with holes for eyes and mouths. It was impossible to tell the identities of any of them. 

"Now Robin, Boy Wonder," Sandman said, turning towards the hero. "Do you know the identity of Batman?"

Robin nodded. 

"If that doesn't add twice the value, I don't know what will!" Sandman said. "Imagine what you could do with that information! You could double your investment! Robin, please pull down your briefs."

Robin obediently pulled his tight green briefs down until they pooled on his pixie boots. He straightened up and his soft cock was on full display. There were a few smatterings of spontaneous applause. 

"Now please turn around, bend over and spread your cheeks, please," Sandman said. Robin complied and there was more cheering. Robin returned to his standing position and pulled his briefs back up as he was asked to do by Sandman. 

"As you can see, he is fully under the control of the powder. A lifetime supply is included, as always. This Boy Wonder is yours, starting at $500,000!" Sandman said. Robin stood there as the bids quickly surpassed $10,000,000. He wanted to run. He wanted to cry. He wanted Bruce. None of that was granted as eventually the gavel struck at $17,000,000. 

"We have a new record that will not soon be surpassed!" Sandman exclaimed. 

The strong hands were on Robin's shoulders again as he was walked off the stage. As he was walked back through the door, he saw twin boys, no older than 11 or 12, standing naked side by side. They stared ahead with a guard behind each of them and traces of white powder under their noses. Robin seemed to pay them no notice as he was walked passed them and they were marched on stage. 

Robin was led into a room where a large man in a black hood stood. He was a hulking figure with his arms across his chest. A briefcase was handed to him which contained the powder. In addition, he completed an electronic transfer of the funds. 

"A spray for the road?" the guard asked. The man nodded and another batch of powder was sprayed onto Robin's face. 

The man picked up the briefcase and put a strong hand behind Robin's neck, marching him out of the room. They walked down a hallway as Robin's insides began to fall apart at the reality of his situation. Eventually they made it outside and a black executive sedan was idling. The man opened the back door and beckoned Robin to get in. Robin obliged without question and the man closed the door, getting in on the other side. The driver was also wearing a black hood to avoid identification at this club of horrors. 

As the car motored away, the man pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into Robin's upper arm. Robin yelped slightly but didn't move. His mind began to race as to what was given to him. All he wanted to do was to open the door and flee. Then suddenly, he realized he had control of his arms. Right as he was getting ready to bolt, the two men removed their hoods. He was sitting next to Bruce and Alfred was driving. 

He turned to look at Bruce as tears began to well up under his mask. Bruce didn't say a word as tears filled his brown eyes as well. He simply embraced Robin and pulled the boy towards him, cradling the costumed teenager as he began to weep openly. No words were spoken on the way back to Wayne Manor. 

When they arrived, Bruce picked up and carried Robin into the house as Alfred pulled the car into the garage. Without words he carried Robin upstairs to his room and closed the door. He laid Robin on the bed and pulled off the mask. 

"How..." is all Dick could ask as Bruce looked down at him. 

"In the morning," Bruce replied. "I need to return and take care of that place as Batman. But sufficed to say, everything is going to be ok, Dick."

"Bruce...last night...with Sandman...I...I enjoyed it. I was good at it...and...I...think...there's just....a need....I don't know...." Dick was stammering as all of the emotions began to flood his young body. 

But as he spoke, he was suddenly silenced by the feeling of Bruce's lips on his own. He gasped in surprise as Bruce's tongue pushed its way in and Dick allowed it. 

"Let me give you what you need," Bruce said, climbing onto the bed over Dick's still-costumed body. 

Dick pushed Bruce up with his gauntlets. He stared into Bruce's dark brown eyes. There was silence between them as they stared into each other's eyes. All of the past events, everything that Dick had been through before, then as Robin, seemed to hover in the air and dissipate. Dick's mouth opened slightly, ready to say something, anything, but no words came out. Instead, Bruce's lips met Dick's once again. Bruce's powerful body pressed down on Dick's smaller and leaner one as his arms went under Dick's body and wrapped him tightly. 

Piece by piece Bruce removed Dick's costume until the boy, his sidekick, was naked. Bruce looked over Dick's body, one he had seen naked before, but this time with a different kind of look. He was hungry. Dick had seen this look many times before, but in this instance, that look was matched with a tenderness and care that he knew Bruce possessed. Bruce kissed Dick's young body down his neck, over his smooth chest with its burgeoning muscles, and all over his flat stomach which was rising and falling more and more rapidly. He nuzzled the pubic hair of his teenaged sidekick, taking in the musk as Dick's cock, fully erect, awaiting his attention. It didn't wait long as Bruce engulfed it easily, causing a loud moan from Dick who pressed his head hard into the pillow. He'd been sucked more times than he would care to count, but again, this was different, and at the same time, the same. 

Bruce's attention then went to Dick's tight, smooth hole, rimming the boy until he was shaking on the bed, his cock leaking intensely. Bruce licked up the clear liquid greedily and returned to sucking the smaller cock until it exploded in his mouth. He didn't let a single drop escape as Dick's body shuddered in pleasure. Bruce then kissed Dick again, the taste of Dick's cum now in its owner's mouth. Dick felt the large cock of Bruce against his hole as Bruce continued to kiss him and press his body into Dick's. Dick spread his legs slightly, a voiceless acceptance and approval of what Bruce was unwilling to simply take without asking. 

Bruce entered slowly, his large cock radiating heat within the heat of his boy wonder, who cried out in pleasure at the entrance. It didn't take long for Bruce to finish, grunting and moaning loudly as he did so. 

The two lay on Dick's bed, breathing hard, looking up at the high ceiling. Dick looked over at Bruce and smiled as his blue eyes slowly closed and his exhaustion overtook him. 

A few minutes later, Bruce slipped out of bed and left the room quietly, descending to the Batcave with one mission on his mind: Sandman. As he leapt off the pole, clad in his gray spandex, Alfred was dusting the Batcomputer. 

"Off to defeat Sandman?" Alfred asked as Batman rushed to the Batmobile. 

"Yes, Alfred. Dick's resting in his room. This one I'm doing alone," he said.

"And you're sure you're not too exhausted from your, um, exertions?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow and looking hard at the crimefighter. "You weren't exactly quiet."

Batman looked at Alfred, suddenly ashamed and unable to find the words. 

"Alfred, I...well, I'm not really sure what happened. It just felt...right...I don't know," he stammered, halting in his footsteps. 

"Master Bruce, I'm not here to judge your actions or Master Dick's. But remember what he's been through, especially recently. He can't be hurt again and you can't afford to become attached to each other in that way and still keep cool heads while out there in the greatest of dangers," he cautioned. 

"You know that this doesn't change the danger or the concern that I have for him," Batman replied sternly.

"Yes I know, but you're the adult," Alfred responded. "I'm worried about compromising his judgement towards you. Something to ponder on your way back to that vile place," Alfred said, turning away and continuing his dusting. 

Batman said nothing as he powered up the Batmobile and roared out of the cave. He took out Sandman and his whole operation that night singlehandedly, although a second pair of hands would've been useful at times. 

Back at the mansion, Alfred gently slid a pair of boxers up Dick's legs and covered him with the sheets. 


	13. Abnormal Normalcy

The next week at Wayne Manor felt like a boomerang of emotions for the Dynamic Duo. Feelings of euphoria, feelings of despair, feelings of confusion. The unexpected evening that the two had shared following Dick's rescue from the clutches of Sandman had thrown everything out of order. Added to that, Alfred's cautions about a potential relationship forming between the two was something that needed to be heeded. Bruce had ordered that Dick take at least one week off from crimefighting which had happened under intense protest. This is what had thrown Dick for a loop. He thought that now everything was going to be incredible in his life, but perhaps this turn of events wasn't for the best. 

During one of Bruce's solo patrols that week, Alfred had the talk with Dick that he had with Bruce earlier in the Batcave. It was surprisingly comfortable for Alfred and surprisingly uncomfortable for Dick. He understood where Alfred was coming from, but in his experience, he'd had so much experience from this side of things and had separated it out from his life that he didn't understand how things could be different. 

"That's very true, Master Dick," Alfred said softly, but firmly. "However, none of your clients ever wanted an actual kind of relationship with you, isn't that correct?" 

"Well, yeah, I suppose," Dick said, muttering into his plate of eggs and bacon. His bright blue eyes looked earnestly at Alfred.

"My point is that you must be careful. You both must be careful. It's obviously highly unlikely that any villain would know and thus take advantage, but you will obviously know and that is a potential weakness," Alfred said, getting up from the table and leaving a shirtless Dick to finish his breakfast alone. 

He honestly didn't know what to make of anything. He was too immature emotionally when it came to relationships to see it as anything more than a stable fuck-buddy. He assumed that's what Bruce thought of it as well and every night that week, that's what it felt like. It was very passionate, but also very fleeting in its own way. A few nights, Dick spent the whole night with Bruce in the master bedroom, but that was just because he was too tired to go back to his own room. If this was going to turn into anything substantial, it certainly didn't seem to be happening immediately. 

When his week suspension was up, Dick was down in the Batcave immediately, donning his costume again and going through the files on the computer, trying to catch up with what Bruce had been doing all week. It turns out he had been on the tail of a gang of jewel thieves. It seemed pretty mundane, but they had given Batman the slip all week. 

"Looks like you could use a second pair of eyes," Dick said as Batman walked towards him after sliding down his respective pole. 

"It's a tricky one," Bruce responded, taking the chair next to Dick and sliding it towards him. Bruce's eyes lingered for a bit on the perfectly smooth, bare legs of his sidekick, but then quickly back to the computer. "I'm not sure if it's worth it to set some kind of trap and hope they fall into it or continue to try to catch them as it is. What do you think?"

Dick stared at the data for awhile in silence. His masked eyes roved over the charts, graphs, geolocations, and more that Bruce had compiled in the recent days. Bruce's eyes also looked at the data, while also glancing at his young sidekick. He was totally engrossed in his job and here was Batman, stealing glances at his tightly clad body. Perhaps Alfred was right. Perhaps this whole thing was a bad idea. Then again, if Dick could keep his mind focused on the job, perhaps Bruce could learn to do so as well.

"There's definitely a pattern," Dick said after some minutes of silence. 

"Yeah, they're jewel thieves that haven't knocked down a single jewelry store," Bruce replied with a grim smile. 

"Exactly," Dick replied, "but still a pattern." His green gloved finger began to trace something on the geo map. "What do all of these points have in common?" he asked. 

Bruce stared at the line he was tracing. "They appear to be random storage units and other distribution venues for jewels and other fine materials. That's the problem. I know they're hitting storage units, but I can't predict where they're going next."

"I think you can," Dick replied with a smile. "If you look closely, you'll see that each time they hit a unit, it's twice as far as the unit they hit next. See?" he looked excitedly at Bruce. 

Bruce stared at the data again. Sure enough, it appeared as if Robin was right. They hit a unit, then would hit another, then doubled back about halfway from the first point, then outward again. 

"But that doesn't make any sense," Bruce said, leaning back in his chair. "What's the point of doing that?"

"Hell if I know," Dick said, leaning back as well and stretching, giving Bruce an unintended and unobstructed view of his bare legs and briefs-covered bulge. "But it's a pattern nonetheless and I think we can exploit it. If we determine where their next target will be, we can be waiting for them."

Bruce looked at the data again, trying to think clearly when right now all he wanted to do was jump his own sidekick. 

"It looks like, given that pattern, there are two possible places for them to hit," he said. "Which one do you think it'll be?"

"Let's each take one," Robin said with a hopeful smile. Batman stared daggers at him. 

"Really? It's been a week since you were kidnapped to be sold as a sex slave and you think we're going to separate again?" Batman said with grave concern. 

"Had to give it a shot, eh?" Dick said with a grin. "I think this location is our best bet," he said, pointing at the map.

"Then we haven't a moment to lose," Batman said, getting in flash and Robin joining him. They headed for the Batmobile and powered out of the cave. 

About 20 minutes later, with night fully closed in on the city, the Batmobile rolled up in a back alley at a safe distance from the storage unit. Before they climbed out, Robin pushed the cloaking device button newly installed which made the Batmobile look invisible to anyone walking by. They just had to hope no one else drove down that alley until they returned. The two crimefighters crept over to a back entrance and slipped into the building. It was a large warehouse filled with stacks of boxes and crates, some quite high. It was very low-security for high-value merchandise like jewelry, which is one of the reasons it was used. The idea was that no one would think to look here, but these thieves were obviously in the know when it came to these kinds of things. 

As the Dynamic Duo made their way into the interior of the large space, they heard a tinkle of breaking glass and froze. Across the room, a large group of maybe 5 or 6 burly men were making their way into the warehouse through a broken side window. Batman and Robin quickly split into two directions behind stacks of crates as the group entered and began to silently open boxes and crates looking for their booty. 

"Jackpot," one said darkly as he opened a particular box. 

"I'm afraid your winnings will be delayed in coming to you," Batman said as he sprang out from behind the stack of boxes. 

"It's the Bat!" one yelled. Instead of fleeing, the group prepared for action. 

"And he's not alone!" Robin cried out, leaping onto a stack of boxes and putting his hands on his hips. 

"The Bat and the Brat," the apparent leader said with a snarl. "Let's get rid of them, boys, and then get back to work!"

Batman sprang into action and Robin leapt down and dropkicked the nearest opponent. Despite being out of action for a bit, Robin felt natural again as he leapt about, bright colors flashing, and made quick work of a few of the thieves. Batman traded blows with a few on his side of the warehouse, dodging their fists as much as he could. 

The fight lasted longer than usual, at least it seemed so to Robin. He kept moving quickly, but was beginning to tire. He leapt onto a stack of boxes, dodging a blow and then leapt to another. However, he misjudged the distance and his growing fatigue. He slipped on the edge and crashed to the floor hard. He groaned as he was slow to get up and his attackers took advantage. As he got to his feet, a large fist connected with his stomach, causing him to double over. Then another fist connected to his chin and the Boy Wonder staggered backwards. Instead of hitting a stack of boxes, he felt a solid body behind him as one of the thieves grabbed him from behind. The hands were strong and running all over his upper body. Despite the danger, it felt oddly sensual to Robin to have strong hands on him again. Another pair of hands grabbed his smooth, bare legs. Again, they ran all over his legs causing a wave of pleasure in an otherwise unpleasurable situation. 

However, what Robin misinterpreted as the two thieves feeling him up was simply them getting a solid grip on his young, lithe body. They lifted him up and threw him into a stack of boxes. Robin groaned as he lay there, dazed. He half-expected to see them coming after him again, and he half-desired them to do so. In his semi-conscious daze, he had a quick vision of three strong thieves, circling around his helpless body. They smiled down at him and rubbed their massive bulges. Then his briefs were around his ankles and his ankles above his head, and the three took what they wanted, what he wanted. 

Back in reality, the thieves had all converged on Batman having disposed of his pipsqueak partner. One had Batman in a full nelson grip while others were taking body blows. Robin slowly got to his feet, realizing that he had been ignored. He also realized he was semi-erect, but all of those feelings dissolved instantly when he saw Batman's peril. He found a second wind and ran full speed at the group of thugs. He landed a hard drop kick at the nearest one who toppled to the ground.

"Flash!" Robin cried out as he crouched low. Batman heard and closed his cowled eyes. Robin deployed a flashbang grenade from his belt and the group scattered, roaring in agony and stumbling in all directions. Batman nodded at Robin in thanks and the two, now back to back, surveyed their targets. Batman seemed to gain a second wind as well and the two sprang back into action. 

Just then, however, they heard gunshots and both dived for cover. One of thieves was blindly firing a handgun, trying desperately to hit the caped crusaders. Batman and Robin both dived behind separate stacks of boxes and plotted their next move. Then there was a grunt and cry as a bullet found a mark. Unfortunately, it was one of the thieves. The shots stopped and the dynamic duo sprang back into action. One of the thieves clutched his shoulder as blood covered his hand. It didn't appear to be a mortal wound. Robin remembered that Batman had once taught him that a well-placed Batarang could dislodge a gun from someone's hand. As he sprang out in the confusion and smoke, he pulled one from his belt. 

"All right Boy Wonder, that's enough!" came a loud cry. Robin froze and turned towards the voice, Batarang in his gloved hand. His masked eyes went wide as he saw two of the thieves holding Batman by each arm and the thief with the gun pointing it against the side of his cowl. His arm flexed and tensed as it held the Batarang. He was breathing hard and looking at the eyes of the gunman and the eyes of his mentor. 

"Drop the your little toy and put your hands up or the Bats gets a hole in his head," he said with a growl. Robin didn't move. He was calculating how quickly he could throw it and how fast it would travel. Would it be enough? Was it worth the risk? 

"Robin don't listen to him!" Batman said, but anything else was silenced by a thief putting a hand over his mouth. 

Robin stared at the two men holding Batman and the third with the gun. In that moment, Batman didn't look like the bulky, muscular crimefighter that he was. He looked small, helpless, and vulnerable. Robin saw Bruce, laying naked in bed next to him, smiling warmly as he ran his hands through Dick's soft brown hair. He couldn't lose him. He'd lost too much already. 

Before Robin could make a decision, one of the other thieves who had been knocked down had crept up behind him and delivered a massive punch to the back of his head. Robin's masked eyes rolled up into his head and his young body slumped to the floor, first to his knees and then falling forward onto his front, the Batarang falling harmlessly to his side.

For a moment there was silence in the room as Batman looked at Robin's unconscious body on the floor. He looked smaller and more vulnerable than that night he'd pulled his naked body from the van. He saw him in the cave, standing proudly in his new Robin costume. Batman didn't want to believe it, but he knew the hesitation to throw was because of him. He knew Dick was happier as Robin than he was as Dick, no matter how nice a steady relationship would be. He couldn't do that to him. He wanted him only to be happy. 

"Well boys, it looks like we have two other jewels to take home today. I don't know about you, but I look forward to slowly cutting them and making them shine," the one with the gun said with glee. 

"That's not going to happen," Batman said as the hand had been taken off his mouth after Robin was knocked to the floor. The thief who had knocked Robin out had since lifted him up and thrown his young body over his shoulder. Robin's limbs hung limply and his cape hung down over his head, exposing his pert ass in the briefs. 

"Oh really?" the leader asked. "And how do you figure that?"

"Because while you can clearly count to two, you can't count to thirteen, which is how much that glock 40 of yours carries. You're out, my friend," Batman said. 

There was a click as the man pulled the trigger. In the deafening silence that followed that click, Batman stomped on the feet of his holders and delivered massive punches to all of them. The thief holding Robin bolted, turning around and heading towards the broken window with the Boy Wonder over his shoulder. But Batman was quicker. He ran in front of the thief who dumped the Boy Wonder into a pile of boxes just in time for Batman to knock him senseless. In a matter of moments, spurred on by massive adrenaline, Batman tied up the remaining thieves and phoned the police. 

He then cradled Robin's body gently in his arms and carried him back to the Batmobile. 

Back in the cave, Alfred met them as they pulled in and Batman carried Robin's limp body to a gurney in the cave, explaining what happened. 

"Don't say it, Alfred," Batman said, laying Robin's body down. "It's over, I swear."

"Congratulations on taking down the gang, sir," Alfred said, tending to Robin's head and making sure there were no other injuries. "It appears as if the Duo is back."

"Yes, and back to normal," Batman said, looking at his young, unconscious sidekick. He didn't know how he was going to have this conversation with Dick when he woke up, but he knew they needed to have it. 


	14. Restless Respite

Dick awoke slowly and groggily. His head hurt, but it wasn't pounding. His right hand reflexively went to the back of his head to rub it. The dark room seemed hazy and distant, like his eyes just wouldn't focus. Did he have a concussion? Pain meds? He'd find out eventually he supposed. His head turned to the left, and he breathed in sharply at the pain in his neck as he did so, to look at the side table clock. It read 2:37am. Now that he was awake, Dick felt more pain and soreness. 

The memories began flooding back to him as he stared at the high, dark ceiling. He'd been tossed around, missed a jump, clocked from behind. He ground his teeth slightly at the memory of that cheap shot. That would explain all of the soreness. Although, now that he was remembering things, he was surprised to find himself back in the mansion. Batman had a gun to his head and he'd been knocked out. If anything, they should've been dead or taken captive, or maybe in some weird slow-moving deathtrap that was reserved for super criminals. 

Dick grabbed the edge of the comforter and flung it off of him. He was wearing lounge pants over a pair of briefs and was shirtless. He swung his feet off the bed, wincing again in the soreness of his young body, and planted his bare feet on the rug. Groaning like a middle-aged man, he got up and was a bit unstable as blood rushed away from his head. Getting his bearings, he walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light. Again he shut his eyes and winced at the pain of the bright light. 

"Definitely a concussion," Dick said quietly. He slowly opened his eyes to let them adjust and looked at his reflection in the mirror. As far as he could tell, he had no bruises, cuts, or other marks on his upper body. That seemed like a good sign despite his soreness. He stripped himself of his lounge pants and checked his legs, keeping his briefs on because he'd had those on while fighting, or at least, a variant of them. Two small bruises on his right thigh which were barely noticeable. 

"Tough kid," he said to himself with a smile before pulling up his pants. He turned off the light and walked back through his room to the door which led to the hallway. He opened it quietly, not because he was sneaking around, but because he was being courteous to the silent house. Leaving it ajar, he walked slowly down the hallway towards the master bedroom. On his mind were two things: to check on Bruce and then to be with Bruce if he was there. He was really sore, but just wanted to be with him right now. In fact, as he made his way down the hallway, he wondered why he'd been put in his own bed. 

When he arrived at the large double-door entrance, he tried the knob, but to his utter shock it was locked. Bruce never locked his door. No one ever locked any doors in the mansion, even to the study where the secret entrance to the Batcave was located. He tried it again, thinking maybe the old knob was stuck, but it clicked indicating it was locked. He knocked softly with his knuckle, thinking that maybe Bruce was awake, but was greeted with silence. He knocked again and the same refrain of nothing was returned to him. 

Confused and disappointed, Dick turned around and returned to his bedroom. He crawled back into bed and tried to sleep, but the remainder of the night was not a restful one. 

A few hours later, Dick crawled out of bed again, this time for good. It was 6am and his stomach was already rumbling for something to eat. His metabolism was something he could barely keep up with when it came to food and yet, he could not seem to gain any weight still. He weighed himself on his bathroom scale after using the toilet and it read 139. He rolled his eyes and flexed in the mirror. His muscles were clearly defined under his smooth, slightly-tanned skin. The small patches of hair under his arms were tucked between his lean muscles and the beginnings of a six-pack were barely, but definitely outlined. He made a face, wishing he understood how body weight really worked, got cleaned up and headed downstairs. 

He slid into his seat at the table, wearing sweat pants and a tshirt as Bruce sipped coffee and Alfred brought him a plate of food. 

"How do you feel?" Bruce asked, looking at his young partner. 

"Confused," Dick replied, looking hard at him. "What happened?"

"That's a good question," Bruce replied, returning the hard look. "What the hell happened?"

"Wait, what?" Dick asked, looking shocked and angry. "Why the fuck are you mad at me?!"

"Language," Bruce said sternly. 

"Really? That conversation now?" Dick asked incredulously. "I'm not a little kid. Why are you mad at me?"

"You hesitated," Bruce said. "You should've thrown the Batarang as soon as you had the shot, which was immediately."

"He had a gun to your head!" Dick yelled back. "I'm not that fast!"

"First off, yes you are. Second, very few people who threaten with guns will actually shoot. If you paid more attention to my lectures to you in the cave you would know that. Third, he was out of bullets. If you learned to count and identify guns, you would've known that too!" Bruce retorted strongly and loudly, his deep voice booming in the kitchen. "I tried to tell you but they gagged me if you recall."

Dick was silent for a few moments as he looked at his mentor. 

"So...after I was knocked out..." Dick began.

"I took care of business because luckily for me, they couldn't count either and I took them by surprise," Bruce finished. "But the fact is, you hesitated. You hesitated because you didn't want me to get hurt."

"Of course not!" Dick replied, his voice cracking slightly. "Why would I want you to get hurt? Do you want me to get hurt?!" Dick's eyes glistened slightly as a few tears welled up.

"No, of course I don't," Bruce replied, his voice calming slightly. "But when we don those uniforms of justice, we must forget ourselves. We don't come first. Justice comes first. What was your plan when you hesitated?" Bruce asked. "They capture both of us? Then what? What if he'd had bullets left and decided to just shoot us both? We can never hesitate. If we need to save innocent lives, then we sacrifice our own, but we never sacrifice for each other. Otherwise, we're compromised the minute we leave the cave."

Bruce drained the rest of his coffee and got up from the table. 

"Bruce," Dick said softly, looking down at his plate.

"What?" Bruce asked, a little dismissively but with some concern.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Dick said. 

Bruce put a strong hand on his young partner's shoulder. Dick still looked down.

"Our relationship changed and it shouldn't have. That was my fault," Bruce said. He turned and walked out of the kitchen. Dick looked at Alfred who quickly busied himself with some cleaning. Dick sprang up and ran after Bruce.

"Bruce, wait!" he called. Bruce was heading towards the gym. "What do you mean 'it shouldn't have'?"

"I mean we shouldn't have done what we did. It's not right to have any more of a relationship than the one we've had since I found you. It's been hard enough to have you out in danger with me. But with more, I can't bear it and apparently neither can you. You're not thinking straight out there right now," Bruce said.

Dick began to get a bit heated. 

"I'm thinking very clearly about everything," Dick said, his teeth gritted slightly. "You're the one who can't seem to handle it."

"Dick, you're 16 years old, I'm more than twice your age," Bruce said. 

"Yeah, you're really old and slow and worse looking than I am," Dick said, his bravado briefly returning and a smirk across his face. "What else is new?"

Bruce smirked at him, but didn't waiver.

"Nice try, but your little cheek isn't going to woo me today," Bruce said. He turned around and continued to the gym. Dick ran after him and put a hand on his shoulder, physically turning him around. 

"Bruce...I just....I need...sometimes...." Dick was now lost for words.

"No, Dick, that's what you think you need because during the formative years of your life, that was all you knew. There's more. A lot more. I can't be an outlet or a distraction. You have talent for this line of work and last night, because of me, you got hurt and so much worse could've happened. I want to help you discover what truly matters and that means not indulging the baser desires that you have, and quite frankly, I have too."

Dick was now staring, partly confused, partly distraught. Bruce saw the broken look in his bright blue eyes and embraced him. There was no lust in his grasp, just love. Dick felt the warmth and comfort of Bruce's larger body flooding his own. His cock twitched slightly in his sweat pants, but he set his jaw and moved his thoughts away. They broke their embrace and Bruce looked at Dick hard in his eyes, his big hands on his shoulders. 

"This is a two way street. Are you willing to at least give this a try with me?" Bruce asked. 

Dick just nodded, fighting back the tears again. 

"Good. Now, no workout for you today. Alfred is going to give you a massage to work out the soreness from you getting tossed like a rag doll last night," Bruce said with a wink. 

"They tried to toss you but you were too fat," Dick replied before turning around so he wouldn't see the middle finger directed at him. He walked up the grand staircase slowly as he heard the gym door close. Alfred was waiting in the upstairs training room which he'd converted into a recover room. Dick stripped down to his briefs quickly and had his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs when Alfred stopped him.

"No need, sir," he said with a smile. "Please leave those on."

Dick hadn't even given it a second thought and looked at Alfred quizzically. 

"One thing that we need to work on, Master Dick, is your modesty. I know you're comfortable doing whatever in front of people, but in order to help move your mind from such things, we start with the little things," Alfred said soothingly. 

"Does this...does this mean my costume is going to change?" Dick asked, his eyes looking very concerned as he stared at Alfred wearing just his briefs. 

"Master Bruce did bring that up with me this morning before you descended for breakfast, but I assured him that it was designed for maneuverability and flexibility, and that any immodesty that it presents, which I really don't think it does, is minute at best."

Dick breathed a sigh of relief, as he'd designed it and any changes would've really upset him. He laid down on the table and Alfred began to work his magic. After an hour, Dick felt like a new man in more ways than one. 

The next two weeks, however, were anything but normal. The criminal activity had been reduced to almost nothing, thanks in large part to the Dynamic Duo. The commissioner was very happy, but Dick was not. He wanted desperately to get back out there and fight again, to try to move forward. The problem was that now the two of them spent large amounts of time around the mansion, which wasn't helping Dick keep his mind off of Bruce and what was and what, in theory, could be again. And while Bruce seemed to enjoy the brief respite from a life devoted to fighting crime, Dick's nights were restless and uneasy. 


	15. Out in the Cold

What had seemed like an eternity for Dick, but in reality was merely days, came to an abrupt ending. Dick had taken to pacing back and forth in the Batcave, in full costume, thinking in his young mind that maybe that would spark criminality. He was getting ready to fake a crime and call it in, just so they'd head out again. Bruce wasn't against patrolling, but according to him, that should be mainly for the police unless crime is high. Since it seemed like it was at an all-time low, driving around in the Batmobile when Bruce should be working at his company seemed like a waste of time. At least to Bruce.

For Dick, it was like house arrest. If he knew how to drive the Batmobile he might have contemplated going out alone, but alas he was stuck outside the city limits, set to pacing like some great cat in a zoo. He was just getting ready to ascend the pole to the mansion when he heard a noise and saw Batman sliding down his pole. His heart raced as there was clear determination in the cowled eyes of his mentor. 

"Call from the Commissioner," Batman said sternly. "He wants us to investigate an odd crime scene."

Robin punched a gloved fist into his other hand.

"Finally!" he said, his voice cracking slightly in his excitement. Batman smiled subtly as the two jumped into the Batmobile and fired out of the cave in a squeal of tires. 

Robin's hands gripped the canopy window as they flew threw town towards the pier. It was the cold storage area used for seafood and other perishable food items. There were a few police cars there which made Robin's heart sink just a bit. The police were always happy to see them, but their presence rarely meant a fight or any real excitement. The Batmobile pulled up and halted near the crime scene tape and the Dynamic Duo got out. Robin was still excited and bounced slightly in his pixie boots as the small crowd that had gathered waved at the heroes. A few girls Dick's age waved and shouted at him. He turned and smiled, giving them a wave and they squealed in delight. He could feel Batman's reproach, but thankfully he remained silent. 

"What is it, officers?" Batman asked as they approached. 

"Well, Batman," the nearest said, looking up from his clipboard, "it's the strangest thing. Take a look."

Batman and Robin walked past the officers as they made way and beheld what they were talking about. Near the wall of the warehouse were a stack of crates covered in a sheet of ice. The weather was a nice 70 degrees and the sun was shining, and yet the ice didn't seem to be affected. Batman and Robin began to scan the rest of the area, finding patches of ice on the ground and walls, as if it'd been placed there by someone or something. 

"There doesn't seem to be a pattern," Robin said, running his gloved hand over a patch on the wall. He looked at his glove and it glistened with moisture. "It also seems like regular ice."

"Yes, it does," Batman said as he squatted near the stack of crates where the most ice was located. It was melting, but slowly. "Although, it seems to be a bit more tolerant to heat and light than normal ice. Let's take a sample back to the Batcave to analyze it."

"Right," Robin said, producing an insulated vial from his belt and chipping a bit of ice into it where it should stay frozen until they get to the cave.

"What was the crime?" Batman asked the officers. 

"Robbery," they replied. "There's ice inside too, but it's cold storage so we thought nothing of it until we came out here and saw this. They stole a few of the cold generators as well, so whoever it was knew what they were doing." 

"Security cameras?" Batman asked. The officers smiled and pointed to the top of the warehouse. Even from the ground Batman could tell that they were encased in ice. 

"Very odd indeed," Batman muttered. "It's almost as if someone is shooting ice somehow and causing it to form on objects. Fascinating. Thank you officers for your service. Robin and I need to return to the Batcave immediately."

They parted company and the two drove back hastily to the Batcave. Robin was silent as they emerged inside the cave the car began rotating slowly to face the exit and the Duo exited the vehicle. 

"Seems like a weird science experiment," Robin said grimly, producing the vial and handing it to Batman. 

"On the contrary, Robin," he said quickly, "it seems like a criminal with a keen mind to be able to invent something like that. They can be very dangerous." In his mind, Robin hoped Batman was right. He could go for danger right about now. 

Batman put the ice chips in the analyzer and the two of them gazed at the monitor. Robin had no idea what they were looking at, but apparently Batman did. 

"Incredible," he said. "Whoever this is seems to have engineered something with the properties of water and ice at the same time. It's malleable and yet durable. It will melt, but only with much higher temperatures or longer exposure to heat."

"How is it deployed?" Robin asked. 

"I'm not sure, but I would imagine some type of gun or other machine that can be directed anywhere. The other question that remains," Batman said, getting up and beginning to pace as Robin perched himself on the desk, bare legs dangling off the side, "is what they want with the generators."

"Maybe to feed the machine?" Robin asked.

"Doubtful, as they're far too large to be of use for what we saw," Batman replied. "But since these are the first to go missing, and they only absconded with a few, it stands to reason they could be after more."

"Sounds like a stakeout," Robin said with a sly grin.

"I think you're right, Robin," Batman said. 

"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Robin said carefully. 

"Don't event think about it," Batman replied sternly. 

After a quick dinner, the Duo was back out on the streets heading for the cold storage warehouses. 

"If it was me, I'd hit the one furthest from yesterday," Robin said as the Batmobile motored down the street. 

"Since we know nothing about our quarry, I would agree with you," Batman replied. He steered the Batmobile down a side street and parked while Robin activated the cloaking device. The two then headed towards the warehouse. 

When they got to the side, they looked up the high wall and Batman got out a batrope. Throwing it expertly, the two climbed up the wall, Robin in front of Batman. Bruce tried very hard not to stare at his partner's pert posterior, just inches away. Luckily, the past few weeks of chastity had worked on him at least, and he quickly moved his thoughts back to the task at hand. 

They clambered over the ledge and onto the roof. There, much to their surprise and the surprise of those already there, they saw four figures. Three were dressed in classic winter gear despite the balmy evening, and the third was wearing what appeared to be some kind of suit equipped with a helmet. It was almost like a modified space suit, but much trimmer and sleeker. The four appeared to be detaching the cold storage generators from their connectors. 

"Whoever you are, stop in the name of the law!" Batman said as he and Robin struck fighting stances. 

"Get rid of them," the man in the suit ordered to other three burly men in some kind of European accent. The three goons balled their fists and charged the Dynamic Duo. Robin's heart raced as he engaged the nearest one. The goon didn't seem too bright as he launched several wild haymakers at Robin's smaller body, but he telegraphed every one and Robin easily dodged them. Crouching, Robin delivered a series of punches to his midsection, not doing much damage but causing him to stumble backwards. He then launched a patented drop kick and sent the goon crashing hard to the ground. Batman, meanwhile, had landed several hard punches to one of the goons who seemed dazed on the ground and the other was landing his own to Batman. Batman stumbled backwards and hit one of the cold units and dodged a punch, causing the goon's fist to collide with the hard metal. He cried out in pain and turned around just in time to see a flash of bright red and yellow and green descend upon him with a flurry of furious punches. 

Batman had charged after the goon that Robin had kicked, who had since risen to his feet, and began to pummel him. Meanwhile, the man in the suit had finished disassembling the units and called on a radio to someone yet unseen. As Robin landed another blow to the goon with the hurt hand, his legs were suddenly taken out from behind as the third good, still on the ground, had grabbed his bare ankles and pulled. Robin's feet went backward and he fell forward, barely managing to brace with his hands to spare him smacking his face on the hard roof. He groaned as the goon who had grabbed his ankles now lifted him up by his shoulders and held him still as the one Robin had been punching delivered several hard jabs into Robin's flat stomach. The Boy Wonder groaned as his arms were pinned by the goon behind him. 

Luckily, Batman had disposed of the third in convincing manner and came in hard against the goon punching Robin. In the confusion, Robin managed to break the grip on his upper arms, turn around and deliver several quick punches to the goon's face, sending him tumbling. 

Suddenly the noise of a helicopter, which had been growing steadily louder, was overhead. The man in the suit had attached cables to the generator he was after and was calling to his goons to get back so they could get out. However, his goons were trapped behind the Dynamic Duo. Batman and Robin turned around, beheld the escape attempt, and charged. Batman was in the lead. 

The man in the suit, who had climbed onto the generator, quickly swung some kind of gun-looking device that apparently had been strapped to his back to his front and pointed it at the heroes. The heroes paused momentarily in their assault and without warning, the man pulled the trigger. What looked like blue light and had the formation of a streak of lightning shot out from the tip and struck Batman in his chest. 

"Batman!" Robin yelled as Batman's body glowed blue for a moment before the glow faded and a veneer of ice encased the caped crusader. The gun swung and pointed at Robin. Robin's masked eyes were wide, terror in them and at the situation. His gloved hands flew into the air in a gesture of surrender. He couldn't think of anything else to do.

"I won't shoot a child, boy, unless you take one more step towards me. My name is Mr. Freeze. Batman has 20 minutes to thaw before he dies. As a gesture of good will I will give you that opportunity. Don't cross me again. Let me take what I will need and leave me in peace," he said in his accented voice. The goons stumbled past Robin who was staring at the tip of the gun. They climbed onto the generator and the helicopter lifted off the roof and disappeared into the night. Robin's heart was pounding, his hands still in the air. 

Then it all came back and he rushed to Batman's side. He ran his gloved hands over the ice, looking for anything to chip at or something, but it was smooth as silk and adhered to the roof. He was thinking quickly and then remembered the spare items Batman kept in the Batmobile that were of use but couldn't fit in the belt because of space. 

"I'll be right back," Robin said to the frozen hero who couldn't hear him. 

Robin slid down the rope and raced to the Batmobile. He opened the trunk and found what he was looking for: a Batheater. A handheld device that emitted tremendous heat. 

"Always something," Robin said to himself. He tucked it between his belt and torso and climbed the rope at a breakneck pace. He then activated the heater and began running is slowly over Batman's frozen body. The ice began to melt slowly, but fast enough. Before too long, Batman's body was free and he collapsed onto the roof, shaking. Robin kept moving the heater over the damp spandex of his mentor to try to warm him as best he could. After several minutes, Batman lay breathing steadily on the roof. 

"Thank you, Robin," he said, gripping Robin's gloved hand and looking into his bright blue eyes. 

It was several more minutes before he felt strong enough to descend the rope and head back to the cave. That night, the two of them spoke for hours about their plan to track down this dangerous criminal. However, nothing that could be done safely came to mind. 

"Another stakeout? Think maybe he'll strike again?" Robin asked, his mask on the table next to him as he rubbed his weary eyes. 

"Didn't work well last time," Batman said with a smile and gave a fake shiver. "Plus, who knows if he needs more."

"True," Robin replied and yawned. 

"Did he say anything to you before he left?" Batman asked.

"Just that his name was Mr. Freeze and you had 20 minutes to live," Robin lied. He didn't mention to Batman the threat of not crossing him again. Robin also thought about Freeze using the future tense about what he will need. Did that mean he would strike again?

The next evening, with no word from the police or anyone else about Freeze, Bruce decided to go to Wayne Tower to do some catchup work. Dick asked to go with him so he could go to a few stores nearby. As Bruce worked the night away in his office, concerned that Dick would be bored with how long it would take him despite Dick's confidence to the contrary, Dick had snuck back down to the parking garage and opened the trunk of the car they arrived in. Inside he'd placed a backpack which contained his Robin costume. 

He knew he had several hours and this was his chance to prove to Bruce he could work alone. He hailed a cab and took it to the storage precinct, having the cab drop him just outside of it near a club. He hopped out and, keeping his head down, walked quickly towards the towering warehouses in the distance. He sidestepped into an alleyway, made sure the coast was clear, and changed into his Robin costume. He hid the backpack behind a dumpster and, keeping to the shadows of the alleyways, headed towards the warehouse he thought Freeze would hit. 

He listened hard for the sound of helicopters but the night was silent, almost too quiet, Robin thought with a smile at the familiar line. As he approached the warehouse in question, he heard muffled voices and the sound of an idling motor. He peered around the corner and saw a moving truck with its back open and lift gate on the ground. Working a portable forklift were three familiar looking goons and Mr. Freeze. These storage units were on the ground level, apparently. 

Robin took a few quick photos with his small camera, the clicking sound completely silent. He put it back in his belt and continued to watch them load the generator. He knew better than to try to take them on. Even though he probably could, he didn't want to be left here frozen without Bruce there to potentially save him. He just had to endure the yelling Bruce would give him when he learned he snuck out and then show him the photos and they could go from there. 

Robin didn't hear the footsteps behind him over the sound of the truck. He didn't even register the feeling of the needle in the side of his neck. His world simply went dark. He crumpled to the ground, out like a light. The man who had injected him walked over his small body and approached the group. 

"Mr. Freeze, the Boy Wonder was behind that corner snooping around. I got him with the knockout needle," he said. Freeze looked past him and saw the colorfully clad body on the ground. 

"And the Bat?" he asked.

"No sign of him. I think the boy came alone."

Freeze thought for a moment and walked over to the unconscious Boy Wonder. He had been told not to mess with them again, and yet here he was. Then again, he'd made no attempt to stop them. He crouched down and pulled the camera out of his gloved hand. 

"Just spying, apparently," he said to his goon who had followed him. He dropped the camera and shot it with his gun, coating it with ice. He then looked back at the helpless teenager. 

"Just leave him? Kill him? Ice him?" the goon asked. 

"No," Freeze said, looking over the smooth, lithe body of the Boy Wonder. "Bring him."


	16. Hidden Ice

Robin awoke suddenly. His masked eyes shot open and he was immediately aware of an intense cold; more intense than any he had ever felt. The fact that his legs were hairless and bare was probably not helping his situation either. He looked around quickly, his vision obscured partly by the cloud caused by his rapidly escaping breath. His shoulders ached slightly, but not terribly. He was in a room with a sickening, pale blue hue to everything. There were grates along the wall where he could see cold air blowing in. Around him, hanging from the ceiling, clanking softly in the breeze created by the cold fans, were several hooks. His gloved hands were above him and cuffed together. He was hanging on one of those hooks. It was a beef locker. His booted feet were not tied together and he was suspended about a foot or two off of the floor. His bare legs dangled slightly as he moved. 

His head was pounding and his chest felt like a weight was upon it. How long he'd been in there, he had no idea, but he felt a foreboding sense that if he remained much longer, he would freeze to death. 

A door opened on the wall in front of him and a man in a business suit walked in. He was bald and his skin was deathly pale. He seemed completely unfazed by the frigid air. In fact, he seemed almost comfortable. 

"Hello, Boy Wonder," he said in an accented voice. It was Mr. Freeze, Robin guessed, but he looked completely different and almost normal without his, what Robin now quickly assumed, was a refrigeration suit. Robin didn't respond. He wanted to, but the words would not escape his mouth. 

"I told you not to come after me, and yet you did," he said. "For that you should die."

Robin just hung there, his small body beginning to shiver uncontrollably. 

"I could have killed you back at the warehouse, but I didn't. I could let you freeze to death in here, but I won't," Freeze said. "But I want you to know that if you resist or otherwise are uncooperative, you will be placed back in here to freeze to death. Do you understand, boy?"

Robin just nodded quickly. Whatever he had to do was preferable to death, he assumed. Plus he could barely think now. Freeze walked up to him and placed his hands on Robin's narrow waist. He lifted the hero easily and the cuffs were separated from the hook. His feet hit the ground and his knees almost buckled, but Freeze held him upright. Robin brought his hands down in front of him, which were still bound together. As they rested on his front he realized he was missing his utility belt. Freeze stood behind him and placed both hands on his shoulders. He pushed, indicating Robin should walk, and with some difficulty, Robin was marched out of the locker. 

Outside the door, the air was exactly the same, but on the far side of the room, there was a red glow and three henchmen stood there. Freeze walked Robin over to them and pushed him into their waiting hands. Immediately warmth flooded Robin's lithe body and he began to shiver madly at the change in temperature. It felt good but his body began to go into shock.

"It will take a moment to adjust back to normal," Freeze said. "I can control with a remote the parts of this place that are cold and the parts that are not. The freezer you were just in will always be cold. If you are put in there, there is no escape. If you wander out of the warm zones, you might not be able to return to one as the cold takes over. However, I can make those places warm. I control everything," he said with an expressionless tone. 

Robin nodded as one of the goons held him tightly by the upper arms. 

"Wh...what do you want from me?" Robin managed to ask as his body warmed enough for him to speak. He looked at Freeze and noticed, hanging on a wall next to the door to the freezer, was his utility belt. 

"I want nothing from you or from Batman," Freeze said. "I took pity on your stupidity back at the warehouse, but decided that you deserved punishment for your impudence. Once I've determined you've been sufficiently punished, I'll return you to your precious Batman and you can convince him that I should indeed be left alone."

Robin gulped slightly as he had no idea what Freeze had in mind. 

The room they were in was quite large, with half of it in the warm glow. Freeze sat at a table on his side and there was a plate of food Robin hadn't noticed. He began to eat as if he was unaware the Boy Wonder was still in the room. 

While he was almost mesmerized at the sight of Freeze eating normally as if he wasn't sitting in sub-zero temperatures, he was roughly moved backwards against the wall. His bound wrists were again raised above his head and secured to something Robin hadn't noticed. 

"Bruises, cuts, and broken bones," Freeze said as Robin's wrists were tied, "are all things common to crimefighters, no? These things are normal. They are expected."

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed the waistband of Robin's briefs and pulled. The slipped down his smooth legs and his soft cock was exposed for the men in the room. The briefs were pulled off of his feet and Robin didn't even struggle. He was shocked at what they did and he had never had any resistance to people removing his clothes before. His ankles were then spread apart and secured individually to cuffs that were embedded in the wall. 

"But the unexpected, the unseen, and yet the most painful and personal," Freeze continued, chewing and swallowing, not even looking at his prisoner, "can leave the deepest scars and send the most important messages." He looked up at his captive hero. "Fascinating."

Robin looked at him confusedly, then realized his eyes were on his groin. Robin looked down and noticed that his cock was at full mast, sticking straight out at 5.5 inches. Being in a room full of men had apparently awoken something deep in Robin's mind, something he'd been trying to suppress now for weeks if not months. And for the first time in years, his face blushed red at being exposed before men. 

"Perhaps it is a natural reaction?" Freeze said to seemingly no one. "Perhaps it is fear? How old are you, Robin?" he asked.

"Sixteen," Robin replied. He had no reason to lie. 

"Perhaps just a teenaged libido then?"

Robin remained silent but unfortunately the erection did not subside. 

"Regardless, I assure you that you won't enjoy what I have planned for you and it," Freeze said, continuing to eat. 

One of the thugs had grabbed a long metallic dildo with a wire leading out of the back. Robin knew exactly where that was going and what it would do. He bit his lower lip. He was excited. 

"Wh...what are you doing?" Robin asked, feigning fear and confusion. 

"It's quite simple, Boy Wonder," Freeze said as another thug wrapped a strap around the base of Robin's hard cock that also had wires coming out of it. "We're going to hurt you where it cannot be seen, but where you will never forget it and nor will your partner."

The feeling of the thug's hands on his package sent waves of pleasure through Robin's secured body. He did his best to seem agitated and disgusted, but he wasn't sure how well he was pulling it off. Just then, the metallic phallus was pressed up against his tight, smooth hole and without a lot of effort, made its way inside. Robin gasped in pleasure and his eyes shot wide. He moaned softly, reflexively, and without even realizing it. 

"Fascinating," Freeze said again. "Do you enjoy this, Robin?"

"No...of course...not," Robin said, gasping again. The dildo activated and shot waves into Robin's body. He cried out, not in pain, but in pleasure. The goons looked confused and at their boss who said nothing. Robin's cock was already twitching and beginning to leak. His masked eyes were closed and his young body shook slightly. Freeze nodded to a thug and then the cries of pleasure did become pain. The dildo truly activated its maniacal purpose and began to shock Robin's insides. At the same time, the strap around his cock send shocks through his shaft and balls. His cries of pain pierced the otherwise silent room and his body convulsed. His muscles tightened and constricted as he strained against his bonds. 

"Not so pleasurable now, is it Boy Wonder?" Freeze asked, enjoying his food and the sounds of pain from the teenaged hero. He looked up again and saw, to his amazement, that Robin's cock was still hard. 

Robin's mind was racing. The pain was unbearable, but where it was coming from and what it was targeting had been dormant for so long that they refused to go silent again. His body was adjusting to the pain and some pleasure began to return again as well. Another wave of shocks and his abs constricted and he came, crying out, all over the floor. Freeze nodded at a thug and he turned up the strap around Robin's cock to full power. The shocks coupled with post-orgasmic sensitivity caused Robin's body to writhe, almost uncontrollably. Tears stained his young face as the sensation of vomiting rose, but thankfully fell again. 

And then everything stopped. The euphoria of ejaculation was completely gone, his cock was softening, and yet the pain remained. He was breathing hard, his head slumped in his chest as the devices were removed. 

"I must admit, Robin, I never expected that reaction from you. It seems that for whatever reason, this kind of debasement and treatment agrees with you. However, I couldn't allow true pleasure for you in any way, which is why that last bit of torture was necessary," Freeze said, putting down his utensils and looking at the half-naked sidekick. Robin groaned softly. "While this sort of debasement has never appealed to me, it does to my loyal friends here," he said, gesturing to his thugs as Robin's head rose slightly to look at him. "They, and I expect perhaps you, will enjoy themselves. I have other matters to attend to."

Freeze got up from the table, throwing a napkin on the plate, and left through a door a disappeared. The thugs, meanwhile, smiling broadly, undid Robin from his restraints and two, one on each shoulder, walked Robin's half-naked body out of the room through another door. The third goon followed, holding Robin's briefs. They walked down a short hallway and entered another room where there was what appeared to be a jail cell contained within. There was a cot and a toilet inside the cell. 

"Don't resist and you won't get hurt," the one holding Robin's right shoulder said. 

"I don't think he will, he's ready to go again," the other said smiling. Robin's cock had begun to get hard again as he knew what was about to happen. For the next hour, Robin was fucked by all three, with the others making him suck them, jerk them, and otherwise be their sextoy. Robin did his best, but he couldn't hide his abilities at what they wanted from him. Nor could he hide his partial enjoyment of it. It wasn't all good, but there was something natural to him about it, as natural as fighting crime had become. Something that had been missing in his life had now reappeared. 

When they had all finished, they allowed him to clean himself up before locking him in the cell. He was allowed to be fully clothed in his costume and they left, chuckling to themselves and promising a return visit. Robin drifted off to a surprisingly deep sleep on the uncomfortable cot, but his sleep was short-lived. 

"Robin, wake up!" cried Batman. Robin awoke with a start and saw, standing on the other side of his cell, Batman in all his glory. 

"Batman!" he cried, "thank God!" He did his best to sound relieved, and indeed he was. But part of him was disappointed that his stay there had come to a quick end. However, he quickly shoved those feelings as deep into his mind as he could. 

Batman made quick work of the lock with his pick and Robin rushed through the gate and hugged him. He was genuinely happy to see him. 

"Later," Batman said as Robin then heard voices in the hallway. Batman walked out with him and Robin saw Freeze, wearing his suit, and his goons all being escorted away by police officers. "Luckily your tracking device is temperature proof," Batman said, handing Robin's utility belt back to him. It was still very cold but Robin clicked it on anyway, shivering slightly. 

"How long was I here?" Robin asked. 

"Just a few hours," Batman replied. They walked out into the warm sunshine which felt divine on Robin's smooth, exposed skin and climbed into the Batmobile. As they pulled away, Batman was silent. Robin stared straight ahead, bracing himself for the lecture he would get in the cave. But Batman didn't wait for the cave. 

"It could have been much sooner if I'd realized you'd disappeared downtown," Batman said sternly. "Once I couldn't find you, it was only a matter of locating the tracking beacon."

"That's good," Robin said quietly. "Look, Batman, I'm really sorry," Robin said. "I wasn't trying to bust them, I swear! I was only taking photos of them and I was going to show you them to prove I could do surveillance on my own!"

"Good job," Batman said sarcastically.

"I followed every procedure!" Robin retorted. "The driver of the truck had apparently fanned out to watch the area. How was I to know?"

"I wasn't there so I won't comment," Batman said flatly. "I just hope you learned something from this. Are you hurt?"

"Just my pride," Robin said. 

"What did they want with you, anyway?" Batman asked. 

"Information, like any other criminal," Robin lied. "They wanted your identity, I said no. They unmasked me, didn't know who I was, so that didn't help. They put my in a freezer to torture me, I didn't break." Robin said. "They obviously didn't want to kill me because they didn't leave me in the freezer. I refused to answer their questions and I remember passing out in the freezer. They must've moved me to cell while I was knocked out."

"Well, I'm just glad you're ok," Batman said. "A torturing from a villain is punishment enough for venturing off like that. It's not that I don't trust you, I'm just worried about you and with good reason," Batman said as they pulled into the cave. The two got out and Robin bee-lined it for the poles. 

"Dick!" Batman called out as Robin mounted the pad and prepared to go up to the mansion. "I'm really not that mad. It all worked out in the end. We got our man, you're safe and sound. Tomorrow, let's talk about what you did on your solo patrol and what you can do to get better. Then, we'll plan some for you, ok?"

Robin looked at Batman's genuine face. It wasn't what he had expected from him. He simply nodded and smiled and in a cloud of steam, rose up into the mansion. 

That night, Dick showered for a long time, letting the warm water flow over his smooth, toned body. His eyes were closed and he was slowly stroking himself as he thought of those three goons having their way with him. As he crawled into bed, he thought about Bruce and what he would do if Dick told him what actually happened. He closed his eyes. Some things are best left hidden, he thought. 


	17. A Sure Thing Doubted

The next few days following his rescue from the frozen lair of Mr. Freeze were quite odd, to put it mildly. Dick really was at a point where he just wasn't able to think straight or focus in any rational way. Every morning he would awake in a mild sweat, regardless of the temperature of his room. His eyes would shoot open, his bare chest rising and falling quickly. He always slept on his back and he would throw off whatever covers still remained to look at his raging erection. His red briefs had a small stain where he had leaked during the night. 

The third morning in a row this happened, Dick gritted his teeth in frustration and closed his blue eyes tightly. He desperately tried to remember the dream he was having, but it faded too quickly. He knew it had something to do with Freeze and his henchmen. They all did now. Every time he closed his eyes, he returned there to that cell, surrounded by strong, burly men. Dick lay on his prison cot, naked and waiting for them. The images swirled in his young mind now and his erection pained more. 

Keeping the images fixed in his mind as much as he could, he hurried to the bathroom and finished himself off. This was becoming his new normal. Whenever he had a spare moment, he was off. Surely Bruce had to have noticed, but perhaps he had chalked the odd behavior to a little PTSD or something from being captured. Regardless, despite the relief and pleasure it was providing Dick at the moment, he knew he had to focus his mind. 

"Damnit, Dick!" Bruce shouted as Dick toppled off balance beam in the gym. His shirtless, sweaty body landed with a thud on the mats and Dick groaned slightly. This wasn't the first time this morning that Dick had fallen. Dick lay on the mat on his back, looking up at the bright lights of the gym ceiling. He was wearing his green pixie boots and compression shorts. He had wanted to practice with his green briefs, but Bruce wouldn't let him. It was a stretch to let him wear the compression shorts and Bruce had protested when Dick had removed his green shirt, but it was rather hot in there. 

Dick continued to look up as the figure of Bruce peered down at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Bruce asked. His patience was gone. After three days of Dick darting away, speeding through workouts, meals, etc. Bruce was at his wit's end. 

"I'm sorry," Dick said, closing his eyes and still breathing hard. 

"You're very distracted," Bruce said. "Your mind is very clearly elsewhere."

"No, I'm just a bit tired," Dick lied. 

"Um...Dick..." Bruce began. Dick opened his eyes and saw Bruce pointing down. Dick raised his head and saw his semi-erect bulge in his compression shorts, clearly visible. "No, you're clearly distracted."

Dick's face went slightly scarlet as he got to his feet. 

"Well, what do you expect?" Dick said, suddenly flashing his temper for the first time in days. "You cut me off cold turkey and expected me to what? Get over it? Control my hormones? Forget my past?"

Bruce paused slightly at the last question.

"What does your past have to do with this?" he asked, sounding a bit gentler in an effort to diffuse the situation. 

Dick was silent for a moment as well as his smooth muscles clenched and flexed. 

"I....I can't...." Dick wanted to say the words. He wanted to tell Bruce he needed this, that he needed a release, that the goons in Freeze's lair had been a welcome assault. But looking at Bruce's expression stopped the words from coming out. Images of Bruce lying dead somewhere as Batman flashed across Dick's mind and it quieted him down. "I need a break," Dick said quickly, brushing past Bruce and exiting the gym. He threw his pixie boots in the special chute for their costumes and ran up the stairs barefoot. There was a loud slam as Dick's trademark echoed in the house. 

Dick threw himself onto his bed face down and began to sob. His mind was twisting and warping around conflicting feelings. He desperately wanted Bruce, to be in his warm and strong embrace again, but he knew Bruce would never let that happen again, at least not anytime soon. He desperately wanted release somewhere, to feel powerless and controlled by someone again, but he knew that would lead nowhere good. He desperately wanted these feelings to be gone, to have a normal mind, a mind and desires not bent on the depravity of his past. 

He ignored the soft knocks on his door which eventually went away. 

After a few more minutes, he composed himself and took a shower. This time, just to clean up. His thoughts went where they had been going, but he fought them off. He had to choose a path. One path he couldn't control. Another path could lead to horrible trouble. The last path was the hardest, but the only one that Dick felt he could take for the time being. How long he could hold that path, however, he couldn't say. But he had to try. 

***

Bruce had let Dick go solo again almost immediately after he'd been rescued. In Dick's surprise, he assumed that Bruce was trying to show as much trust as he possibly could. Dick also realized that his patrol routes were rather slow and the two patrols he'd gone on were complete skunks. A few days after Dick's meltdown in the gym, the Dynamic Duo patrolled together. They drove down the dark streets in the Batmobile, waving at some citizens while receiving dark looks from others. It wasn't the best part of town which is why Batman decided to "show the flag" there that night. 

Coming to a good spot to park, the two climbed out and Bat-climbed to the top of a nearby roof to do some more surreptitious patrolling. They moved from roof to roof, looking down into back alleys and hunting for crime, no matter how small. 

As they approached yet another ledge to look over, they heard the sound of voices. They were rough, male voices and Robin immediately looked over the side of the building but saw nothing. As he peered over the edge, Batman tapped his caped shoulder with a finger. Robin looked back and saw Batman pointing. The voices were coming from the next rooftop over. In the dark, they could see a group of 4-5 large men huddled around a rooftop door. Batman nodded and the two took out listening amplifiers from their belts and put them to their ears. 

"That's a good haul," one said, sounding excited. 

"I told you the best thing to do was hit smaller stores more often because they don't raise the alarm or get the attention of the Bat," another said. 

Without waiting to hear more, Batman and Robin put the listening devices back in their belts and leapt across the alley in a flurry of color and capes, landing softly and confidently on the rooftop. They then sped towards the group at a run, hoping to catch them unaware. Robin's job would be to leap and get between them and the door, their obvious escape route. Batman would be their number 1 target, so he would absorb their opening salvo to give Robin time to get into position. Robin veered left out of their sight as Batman swooped wide the other way. 

The group of thugs turned and a few let out profane curses and yells at the sight of the muscled Caped Crusader barreling towards them. 

"It's the Bat!" the nearest yelled. Three of the thugs prepared to fight while the other two, the two closest to the door, looked ready to run. 

"Guys let's just run for it!" one of the two nearest the door yelled. Despite their apparent willingness to engage, the thought of not facing down the feared Dark Knight seemed to prevail and the group turned towards the door. They immediately froze as a flurry of red, green, and yellow came over the top of the doorway and down in front of it. Robin put his hands triumphantly on his narrow hips. 

"Oh I'm sorry, going somewhere?" he asked with a smirk. The thugs curled their lips in anger and made their fists ready. Unfortunately for them, they had all temporarily forgotten about the threat now behind them, and before they could move towards Robin, Batman joined their group with his fists first. Then Robin charged and the fight began. 

The thugs were far better fighters than most, and once the initial surprise wore off, the fight began to draw out slightly. The Caped Crusaders held their own, but the number of thugs didn't help. Robin swung a wild haymaker at a thug who skillfully dodged it and he rose quickly from his crouch, leading with his strong fist which connected with Robin's now exposed torso. Robin cried out with an "oof" as he stumbled backwards, fighting to regain his breath. As he stumbled, he backed right into the waiting arms of the other thug he'd been engaged with. Looping his thick arms under Robin's armpits and clamping his hands behind his masked head in a full nelson, the other approached the now helpless sidekick. 

As the strong arms gripped him, Robin's mind began to warp again and his struggles weakened. He saw the thug approaching in slow motion, the large man cracking his knuckles. In the distance, Batman continued to engage with the other three, oblivious to Robin's peril. Robin felt a stirring in his groin as the man approached and saw the man coming closer, grabbing Robin's cock in his strong hand and pawing at him, getting him fully hard. Robin moaned as the thug holding him released his grip and shoved a hand down the backside of Robin's briefs, finding his hole quickly and shoving a finger up it. 

Then the world re-entered normal speed as a fist connected with Robin's face. The man behind him held him tightly in the full nelson and the other thug delivered several hard punches to Robin's smooth face, cutting his lip and causing his nose to bleed as well. Robin's loins reacted to this reality as well by going quiet. What Robin had hoped to happen was not happening at all. His mind had created a brief fantasy of the two thugs having their way with him sexually on the rooftop while Batman fought, but in reality, they were just beating the shit out of him and he refused to resist because he was hoping their minds where were his was. 

Robin's head drooped into his chest as blood trickled from his nose and lip. 

"Pathetic fucking sidekick," the attacker said. "Let's put him out of his misery."

Robin's masked eyes were half-closed as he slowly raised his head. He was still in the full nelson grip of one of the thugs and his attacker pulled out a knife and held it up to his face. 

"Night night little bird," he said. 

Just then, Batman's fist connected hard with the knife-wielding thug and down he went. The thug holding Robin threw the Boy Wonder to the side to defend himself, but Batman had him down in seconds. Robin lay still on the rooftop as Batman mopped up the thugs. After he phoned the commissioner, he picked up and cradled Robin in his strong arms, carrying him to the edge of the roof. 

"I'm ok," Robin said quietly as Batman set him on his feet. 

"Can you climb down?" Batman asked.

"Yeah, just a little dazed."

Robin was silent on the ride back to the Cave. When they arrived, Alfred began the first aid treatment and said Dick would be fine the next day and that there was no permanent damage. 

Dick sat in a swivel chair in the cave, his mask on the desk and his gloves off has well. He rubbed his eyes with his bare hands as Bruce removed his cowl and sat down next to him.

"Glad you're ok, Dick," he said. "Those were tough guys."

"Yeah...yeah they were," Dick said. He was staring straight ahead. 

"He was going to kill me," Dick said, still looking into space. 

"That's what most of them want to do if they can. You knew that when you agreed to do this," Bruce said.

"Yeah, I know. It just seemed more...real tonight. It's been so long since I've really felt my life was in danger," Dick said quietly, almost muttering. 

"Are you ok?" Bruce asked, putting a hand on Dick's caped shoulder. Dick felt the warmth of the hand but then immediately shied away from it. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he lied. "I'm going to bed."

Bruce watched his partner ascend to the mansion and looked at the mask and gloves on the desk. Alfred busied himself nearby.

"I think I might be the problem," Bruce said suddenly. 

"What do you mean, sir?" Alfred asked. 

"I think Dick could've handled those guys easily tonight, but it was almost as if he was going at half-speed or something," Bruce said. "I think he feels that he can slack if I'm there."

"Perhaps when you let him patrol solo, you don't give him easy routes?" Alfred suggested. "It's far more dangerous and we know the potential consequences, as does he, but if you want him to grow stronger, that is one possibility."

Bruce nodded silently as he lost himself in thought. 

Up in his room, Dick lay on his bed completely naked. His cock was soft as he played with it absentmindedly. How did his mind create that illusion on the rooftop? Why did it seem like every villain wanted him sexually and the one time he actually wants it to happen, they try to kill him? Was it only a super villain thing? Maybe...

These questions circled through Dick's mind as he eventually fell asleep, hand resting on his groin. At least now he knew it wasn't always a sure thing. Hopefully that would help him focus better and actually be the crimefighter he wanted to be, despite his libido trying to pull him in a different direction. 


	18. False Riddles

Dick didn't emerge from his room for the next two days. Or at least, that was the image that he wanted Bruce and Alfred to have. He refused to come out when Alfred or Bruce would knock on his door and then Alfred would reluctantly bring a tray of food to his room. Dick spent much of the day in bed or pacing in his room while Bruce and Alfred went about their day and then, waiting an hour or so after they went to bed, he would go down to the gym and workout for hours. He wasn't shifting his sleep schedule, he wasn't really brooding, he just needed time alone. 

On the third day after their encounter on the rooftop with the gang of thugs, Dick emerged from his room mid-morning and headed downstairs. He was surprised to see both Alfred and Bruce still in the kitchen for breakfast. Dick had assumed, given the day, that Bruce would have gone into the office or something and Alfred would probably be in the Batcave. He didn't mind them being there, but he was still surprised. 

"Put a shirt on, please," Bruce said, casting a casual glance at his sidekick as he entered the kitchen. Dick was wearing lounge pants over his black briefs and nothing else. 

"Why?" Dick asked, pausing in the doorway. Bruce turned to look at him. Dick's body looked pristine, just out of the shower. His hair was slightly damp and parted neatly and his torso was completely smooth. The patches of hair under his arms were hidden as his arms hung at his sides limply. His pectorals were defined now, but still lean. His abdominals were also more defined now, although not the cheese grater abs that Dick said he was going for. His lip was completely healed from the altercation as well. Bruce paused slightly as he took in the sight but quickly moved on.

"New rule," he said, staring at Dick. "Unless we're in the gym or you're in your room, you're clothed top and bottom in the mansion."

Dick just rolled his eyes and left the doorway. 

"Was that prudent, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, clearing away Bruce's empty plate, while simultaneously putting a full plate at Dick's place. He brought the coffee pot back and filled up Bruce's mug. 

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked softly. 

"Well, he finally emerges in public and you immediately chastise him?"

"Alfred, enough is enough. Our relationship has to be as normal as possible and setbacks on patrol are going to be numerous. We've been captured by supervillains, threatened with death, and yet we soldier on. I can't tiptoe around his teenaged hormones every time something goes wrong. He has to learn to deal with it and normalcy around the mansion is step one," Bruce said firmly before sipping his piping hot coffee.

Dick re-entered the room shortly after Bruce finished talking wearing a black tank top. Somehow, this made him look even sexier to Bruce than when he had no shirt on. Bruce gritted his teeth slightly and shook the thoughts from his mind. He'd been getting much better at suppressing his feelings for Dick and he couldn't falter now. The thoughts left his mind completely as Dick began to wolf down his food. 

"Glad those late night gym sessions are keeping you hungry," Bruce said with a grin, sipping his coffee as he spoke. 

Dick paused and looked up from his plate. 

"There are cameras in there, dude," Bruce said, mocking a teenaged voice with his vocabulary. "And motion sensors throughout the mansion that we turn on at night. I keep the alarm off now because you're in the house but it still alerts me when there's any movement."

Dick's face turned slightly red and he smiled and looked back at his plate to continue his devouring. 

"We all need some time alone. I totally get it," Bruce said. "But," he reached across from his seat and put his hand on Dick's right arm. Dick froze and looked Bruce in his dark brown eyes. Bruce returned the look, but there was no attraction in them at all and Dick could see that. This was a look he was not familiar with. This was a look of genuine care and concern which set off something inside of Dick that felt both strange and comforting. "Next time, just say so."

Dick paused for a moment as Bruce's strong hand rested on his forearm. Dick savored the touch, not from a sexual standpoint, but from a fatherly one. He hadn't felt that since his own father died 6 years before. He nodded and smiled. Bruce returned the smile, finished his coffee and stood up. 

"Right, I need to go into the office today. Dick, when you're finished, meet me in the cave before I leave. I want to brief you on your new patrol routes."

The verbal period at the end of Bruce's sentence was barely out of his mouth when Dick shoved back his chair and sprang to his bare feet. He punched a fist into his other hand and grinned broadly, showing bits of egg and bacon in his white teeth. 

"Ok," Bruce said cautiously with a smile. "Or, you can meet me down there after you brush your teeth," he said, returning the broad smile. 

Dick raced out of the room and up the stairs. 

"In 3, 2, 1," Alfred said quietly before there was a loud slam. "By God I'm going to replace that door with one made of plastic." Bruce chuckled and took the elevator down to the Batcave, bypassing the poles in the study since he didn't need to don his costume for this. 

A few minutes later, the sound of sliding came to Bruce's ears and he looked up to see a costumed Robin hit the pad at the base of his pole. He bounded over on his pixie boots to the computer desk where Bruce was sitting and sat down next to him. Bruce decided not to say anything about Dick being dressed unnecessarily in his costume. It really didn't matter. 

"So I know your patrols have been a little, well," Bruce began.

"Boring," Dick finished for him. 

"Yes, well, that was more for my peace of mind and for your training," Bruce countered. 

"What do you mean?" Dick asked.

"Well, the first time you went on your own you were captured by Freeze," Bruce said a bit sternly.

"I was ambushed!" Dick said. 

"You didn't account for the driver of the truck," Bruce countered again. 

"How was I supposed to know?!" Dick argued.

"Because the first time we ran into them he had three goons and then the helicopter showed up, indicating more," Bruce said calmly but authoritatively. Dick sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. He pursed his lips and nodded. "These are the things you need to always catalogue in your mind, Dick," Bruce said, patting Dick's smooth, bare thigh. Again, to Dick, there was nothing sexual in the touch and indeed for Bruce there wasn't either. Surprisingly to Dick, this didn't frustrate him like it would have just a few days ago. The peace in his mind was encouraging. 

"So, your routes were simple because I wanted to track your movements and see how you approached different situations," Bruce said. 

"I only had the one encounter," Dick replied. There had been one arrest he was able to make, but it was just two gang members who weren't much bigger than Dick to begin with and their disposal had been done in mere seconds.

"True, but your approach was perfect. You listened to their conversation, assessed their strength, and attacked from a position of strength. Even if there had been more, which would have surprised even me, you were in a good position to deal with them," Bruce said. 

"And even after the rooftop you're going to let me out again by myself?" Dick asked hesitantly. He had to bring it up to gauge Bruce's reaction. 

"Setbacks happen and those guys were tough," Bruce said. "You said it was a wild haymaker that he dodged and countered?" Bruce asked.

Dick nodded.

"That happens when we get tired and he was a skilled fighter. You'll learn to control yourself a bit better as you continue to mature as a fighter," Bruce said.

He then outlined the routes on the computer and downloaded the information into Robin's scanner in his utility belt. 

"Can I start tonight?" Dick asked a bit excitedly. 

"Unless we're needed by Commissioner Gordon, it's up to you," Bruce said with a smile. He was masking his concern as best he could and Dick's excitement overwhelmed his ability to read the concern in Bruce's face. 

Bruce left Dick in the cave alone so he could go to Wayne Tower. Dick spent another hour or so going over the routes, crime statistics, topography, and basically everything he could possibly know about where he was going. It was definitely overkill, but he wasn't going to let anyone get the jump on him this time and he was desperate to prove himself to Bruce. He figured if he could bag a few criminals, make a name for himself out there, then it would be a good first step into trying to normalize his life from what it was to what he wanted it to be: crimefighter extraordinaire.

The day progressed at the pace of a crippled snail. Dick worked out, but only lightly, doing mostly cardio so he wouldn't be sore at all. He didn't eat much, but Alfred made sure he wasn't going to pass out while on patrol. 

About an hour before sunset, when Dick was planning on leaving, Bruce called the mansion. As Alfred spoke to him, Dick listened in. His stomach began to churn, thinking maybe Bruce was having second thoughts and either wanted to go with Dick or didn't want him to go at all. Alfred hung up the phone and Dick pretended to be interested in the book he hadn't been reading for the past 15 minutes anyway. 

"That was Master Bruce," Alfred said. "He wanted to let us know that a business emergency is taking him to Metropolis until tomorrow. He wishes you very good luck on your patrol tonight and reminds you not to stay out too late if you, I believe the phrase was, 'get skunked'."

Dick smiled at Alfred and put the book away. He showered for a decent amount of time, losing himself in the steam and his thoughts as he mentally prepared for tonight. He had a good feeling about it. He dressed in gym shorts and a tshirt for his brief trip downstairs and to the study. Activating the switch and watching the wall recede, he hopped on his pole and slid down, being clad in his brightly colored costume on the way. His pixie boots hit the pad at the bottom and he walked casually, although his heart was pounding, over to the computer for some last minute information. 

He then got up and headed for the Batmobile. Bruce had taught him the controls months ago just in case he ever needed to drive it. It was basically like driving a car with some extra buttons, which Dick had learned how to do when he was still on the streets actually. He muttered to himself as he went through the startup sequence and then powered out of the cave. The cool night air breezed through his hair as he sped off towards Gotham City. 

The drive was uneventful and traffic seemed lighter than usual which didn't bode well for crime, he thought. Having studied the patrol route for tonight, he decided to park the Batmobile and go by rooftop as he and Batman had done a few nights before. He found a secluded place and engaged the cloaking device and put the key into his belt. He then batclimbed to the nearest roof and pulled out his scanner, tracking his progress and making occasional notes for their crime charts. 

As he moved stealthily from point to point, he could feel his chest tightening in anticipation. He neared a ledge and paused, making a quick note, and then saw them. Four large men moving some materials from the back of warehouse into a truck. Robin paused and pulled out his listening enhancer. There was an eerie familiarity to this from a few nights ago. 

"Hurry up," one said as they kept loading. "The boss wants this truck at the hideout pronto."

At the words 'boss' and 'hideout', Robin knew he'd struck gold. He kept watching for a moment longer, taking in the whole scene and trying not to miss anything. Then he attacked. He leapt from the building, having engaged a grappler on the ledge to control his descent, and hit the ground in a crouch. His appearance shocked the four men and in a flash of color, two were on the ground almost immediately. The other two, trying to react to Robin's sudden appearance, launched at the Boy Wonder, both landing blows to his torso. Robin absorbed the blows and used the momentum to flip backward. 

He then sprang towards them again, leaping high and landing a foot on both faces, sending them backwards and onto the ground. The first two had regained their footing and one reached out and grabbed Robin's arms from behind. The powerful grip made Robin pause for a moment, but he smiled as his mind cleared instantly and he used his restrainer as leverage to kick the other one. Then he landed hard on the restrainer's feet and turned around to deliver several quick jabs at certain places, knocking him to the ground. 

He stood triumphantly amongst the four groaning men on the ground, his hands on his narrow hips. The he pulled out some batrope and tied their wrists behind them and then tied them all together. Three were pretty groggy, but one was fairly conscious and got a face full of Bat Truth Spray from Robin's belt. His eyes glazed slightly as Robin crouched in front of him, smiling broadly. 

"Now my good sir," he said cheerfully, "who is your boss and where is this hideout?"

"The Riddler," he said groggily. "And he was going to radio the coordinates to us when we was finished loadin' the truck," he said, his head lolling from side to side. 

Robin's heart raced. The Riddler. Perfect. He could take out a supervillain tonight on his own. This was too perfect. 

"Where is the Riddler?" Robin asked again. 

"He was finishing up a job with the other boys a few blocks from here," the guy said before the gas began to wear off. It didn't last very long. 

"Thank you kindly," Robin said, grabbing his hanging grappler that he'd descended on and shooting back up to the rooftops. He pulled out his scanner and made a few quick notes and also sent a coded message to Gotham PD about the four goons, although he delayed the transmission for 30 minutes so he wouldn't have the cops' sirens scare off the nearby Riddler. 

He then scampered over the rooftops, scanner in hand, hoping his knowledge of the area would lead him directly to the Riddler, and his research did not disappoint him. Five minutes and a few blocks away, he peered over the ledge and into the alleyway. Sure enough, there was an identical truck. Two goons were loading boxes into the back while the Riddler stood by and watched silently. 

Robin stared at the villain. They'd tangled before, but that was when Robin first started out and it seemed like ages ago. The Riddler's body was clad from neck to toe in green spandex with black question marks scattered all over. He had a purple mask over his eyes and purple gloves that rested on his hips. The spandex left little to the imagination. He was rather muscular, moreso than Robin remembered. And there was a large bulge between his legs that Robin's masked eyes couldn't look away from. He began to feel the stirrings in his loins again, but they weren't going away. And he didn't want them to. He just stared at this supervillain, his mind lost in thought and fantasy. The few interactions with the Riddler in the past gave Robin the impression that he may have been attracted to him, and supervillains in general seemed to go that direction. 

Robin then suddenly shook his head to clear the thoughts away. He had to focus. This was his chance. It was a chance, though, for other things as well, he thought. Then, without another thought, he descended in the same way as before, landing in a crouch and making fists. Riddler didn't seem surprised by his arrival but the goons did. 

"Get rid of him!" the Riddler said. The goons approached. Robin dodged their opening punches easily and landed a few of his own, although not at full power. He saw the first goon wind up. It was going to be a chest punch, something not too damaging. Robin saw it and tried to block it, but was too late. He knew it was too late. The punch landed and Robin stumbled backwards and fell down, making loud groaning sounds. The goons pounced and, each grabbing an arm securely, hauled the Boy Wonder to his feet. Robin did his struggling routine, but the grips were too strong, even if he'd wanted to get away. 

The goons held him tight between them, their calloused hands rubbing against Robin's smooth skin. The Riddler stood a few feet away, staring at Robin with a very odd expression. His masked eyes bore into Robin's own and Robin wasn't sure what to make of it. His eyes wandered over the Riddler's body, taking in every curve of muscle that the spandex showed. 

"Riddle me this, indeed," Riddler said, taking a step towards the feebly struggling Robin. "What is your play here?" he asked.

"What...what do you mean?" Robin said. "I came here to arrest you and stop whatever your operation is," Robin said. 

"Perhaps that was your initial intention, but that's not what you decided to do when you landed here," he said smoothly. His gaze remained almost confused and searching. He probed Robin's masked eyes intensely with his own as Robin ceased struggling. 

"A stalling technique so the Bat can come in?" Riddler asked, but clearly asking himself and not Robin. "No, that's not it, because Batman wasn't with you five minutes ago."

Robin looked startled. 

"What? You don't think my men have communicators in their ears? Tying them up doesn't turn them off, Boy Wonder," he said with a smile. "They told me what happened and so I figured you gassed them and got my location from them. But there were four of them and only two now." Riddler moved closer. "And you had the jump on us here as well," he said. "Desiring to get taken to the lair so Batman could track you using your tracking device?" he asked again. "No, because you couldn't guarantee that I'd take you there if you got defeated." The Riddler was continuing to reason this out loud as he drew closer, now just a few feet from Robin. Their eyes locked briefly and Robin bit the inside of his lower lip as he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the Riddler's and not on his sculpted body. 

The Riddler noticed the movement. Robin then saw the Riddler's eyes glance downward. 

"Now I understand," the Riddler said, looking back up at Robin's eyes with a slight grin. Robin looked down and saw that his erection was clearly visible now in his briefs. He hadn't been able to shut it down. The goons chuckled as they looked at it too. The Riddler moved to within a foot of Robin. 

"What did you think was going to happen, Boy Wonder? Did you think that somehow your skimpy little costume, clearly designed for perverts to get off on just looking at you, would somehow distract me or make me want you? Don't be fooled by my spandex," he said with an increasingly evil smile. "This is for mobility, as I'm sure you convinced your fairy Bat father that your skimpy costume was for movement too. But now I understand you. Now I understand you so much more."

The Riddler reached down, the tips of the fingers of his gloved hand brushing Robin's upper thigh and causing the boy to gasp slightly. The Riddler's other hand pulled at the leg opening of Robin's green briefs and the other hand reached in and pulled the head of Robin's erect cock out of the leg hole. He then snapped the hole back so that only the head of Robin's cock was exposed against his smooth leg. Now Robin's face began to go a bit red.

"Only now you're embarrassed," Riddler said, looking deeply into Robin's eyes. "But your embarrassment isn't that you're on display for me or my friends here, it's that you were wrong about me." Robin gulped. It was true. Robin had no problem being exposed before other men, even after having left the streets full time. When the Sandman had captured him and he was paraded in front of the bidders, he never felt embarrassment. 

"You're a little whore," Riddler sneered as Robin winced at the label. "And you're still hard," Riddler whispered. Robin couldn't help it. He tried but the attention given to his cock, however non-sexual, was feeding it somehow. 

The Riddler then grabbed the waistband of the briefs and pulled down, exposing Robin's cock fully and leaving the briefs around his thighs. The goons chuckled again. 

"Boy Wonder indeed," Riddler said, looking unimpressed at the 5.5" cock bobbing before him. He suddenly grabbed the shaft hard and pulled down. Simultaneously, one of the thugs covered Robin's mouth so that when he screamed, it was muffled. The Riddler pulled hard and Robin's legs buckled slightly, but the goons held him up. Robin continued to cry out, the pain overwhelming him but his cock remained rock hard. Then the Riddler released him and the hand was removed. Robin breathed heavily and looked at the Riddler. 

"You are desperate for me to take you. You want these men to fuck you. You want me to fuck you," the Riddler said. Robin knew he was right, but how he was able to read Robin's eyes this well was a bit concerning. "Well, Boy Wonder, sorry, but that's not what I'm into and unfortunately for you, neither are they." The Riddler turned away from the exposed hero. "But this information is very interesting, very interesting indeed. My partner would certainly be interested." The Riddler turned around and looked at Robin with a raised eyebrow. "But I suppose that's a mystery for another time. I guess we'll see how much you want it or if I'm just...off the mark?" 

Without warning, something blunt and hard hit Robin in the back of the head and he was out cold. The goons let him fall to his knees and onto his front, sandwiching his hard cock between his utility belt and the pavement. His short yellow cape ruffled up and rested above his smooth, exposed ass, the briefs still around his smooth thighs. 

"Let's go, boys," the Riddler said, looking down at the unconscious Boy Wonder. "Maybe if Robin's lucky, some pervs will find him before he wakes up." He began to laugh loudly as they loaded up the truck and sped away. 


	19. Revived

Bruce sat in his spacious hotel room in downtown Metropolis. He was at the desk with his computer in front of him and a half-finished bottle of a Napa cabernet. The plate with the remnants of his filet with roasted potatoes and creamed spinach was on the dining table behind him. He stared at the blinking dot as it moved through downtown Gotham City. He had been following Robin's tracker since Alfred reported he'd left. The business trip was real, but his work was light. It was something more for presence than actual work. Either way it was good because he knew that his absence would embolden Dick on his patrol and he'd get a good idea of where his head and abilities were at. 

He watched as Dick found a good place for the Batmobile and then proceeded on foot. The tracker wasn't terribly precise to where he could track minute movements. A tracker like that would take up far too much space in their precious utility belts that were already at capacity. However, it gave him a general vicinity to work with. He also could see the updates on Dick's scanner as he entered them. They were sporadic, indicating either stretches of boredom or a lack of fastidiousness on Dick's part. Bruce assumed the latter as he sipped his wine. 

He watched the dot move slightly and then hover in a general place for some time. It was near the edge of a building, Bruce guessed based on the relative location. He was either observing or perhaps engaging in the alleyway. Bruce smiled and thumped his fist on the desk as he saw the report of the four thugs taken down. 

"That's my boy!" Bruce said triumphantly in the empty suite. He drained his glass and immediately dialed room service for a bottle of champagne. He'd celebrate in Dick's absence and make sure to do something when he returned the next day. To his surprise, however, the dot kept moving. 

"Don't get overconfident, Robin," Bruce said as he watched the dot move what appeared to be a few blocks in a different direction. "Unless he's on to something..." Bruce trailed off. There was a knock at the door and, staring at his computer as he got up, moved to the door and got his bottle. His eyes were transfixed on the monitor as he undid the cork which popped off with a loud pop. He poured a glass and sat down, his eyes barely leaving the screen for a moment. 

The dot wavered slightly. Another descent? Observation? Bruce stared as the dot remained still. Bruce sipped his champagne idly, watching the time stamp closely. He pulled up a second window and entered the rough coordinates on his interactive map of the city. Dick was still in the patrol route area and if the dot was correct, he was in or near an alleyway in the warehouse district. Bruce went back to the tracking screen. The dot was motionless. 

Bruce leaned back in his chair, finishing his glass and feeling less celebratory by the minute. However, after about 25 minutes, the dot moved. It was heading back in the direction of the Batmobile. Bruce exhaled loudly and poured another glass. He didn't turn off the screen until the dot was back in the Batcave. 

***

It was the rain that jolted Robin awake. Although apparently, not immediately. Robin woke up with a familiar throbbing pain in the back of his head. At this rate, he thought, he'd have a permanent lump there. The pavement was soaked as the rain fell. It was light, but steady. Robin's hair was wet and matted to his forehead and his costume felt heavy being wet. He groaned softly, laying still for the moment as his vision cleared and his bearings came back to him. Then he felt it: the feeling of rough concrete on a place that should not be on concrete. His wet briefs were still around his thighs and his soft cock was pressed underneath him. His face immediately flushed as he slowly lifted his head and looked around him. The alleyway was completely deserted and he couldn't hear a sound at all apart from the sound of rain hitting the pavement and a nearby dumpster. 

He raised himself to his knees and put his briefs back where they belong, not bother to tuck his green shirt into them. Everything was wet anyway and was sticking to his body. He stood up, a bit wobbly at first but regaining his balance quickly. His pixie boots smooshed slightly as his bare feet inside of them trod on the wet soles. He checked his scanner and saw he'd been out for about 30 minutes or so. Not bad considering and for the best given the state the Riddler had left him in. Anger rose fast within him at the memory. It was anger, not at the Riddler, but at himself. He had let his mind go again despite everything. He'd voluntarily tried to get himself captured by a villain purely for sex. It was unbelievable to him, even with his past. He shook his with his eyes closed in disbelief. 

He walked over to the side of the building where his descent grappler still hung untouched. He held on tightly in the falling rain and ascended back to the rooftops. When he got to the roof, he pushed his wet hair which was hanging halfway down his forehead off to the side. He also made a mental note to talk to Bruce and Alfred about figuring out a way to either waterproof or something their costumes. Despite the flexible fabrics and all of their wonder, he felt 30 pounds heavier with them soaked. Although, in fairness, he assumed that their response would something like, "don't stand in the rain". 

He moved back towards the Batmobile, pausing slightly at the ledge of a building to watch in satisfaction as the Gotham PD arrested the four thugs he'd taken down earlier. He drove back, having activated the closed canopy feature for the rain. He parked the Batmobile in the cage and was relieved that Alfred wasn't waiting for him. He didn't like the idea of being babysat. He knew they'd be watching the tracker, but still. 

He peeled off his costume in the empty Batcave, tossing the pieces in a laundry basket so the wet costume wasn't removed by the mechanism on the way up. He knew Alfred would prefer it this way and he had multiple costumes anyway. Now completely naked, he walked over to the pole and stepped on the pad, pushing the button and ascending to the mansion. He emerged from the study wearing his original clothes and passed Alfred in the hallway. 

"Successful patrol, Master Dick?" he asked cheerfully. "Except for not getting caught in the rain, I see?"

Dick's hair was till a bit wet. 

"Yes, apart from that. Took down four goons and got a lead on the Riddler, so I'd say a pretty good night," Dick said with a smile. Alfred beamed back at him. "And I put the wet costume in the laundry in the cave so it wouldn't foul up the mechanism on the pole," Dick added. 

"Very thoughtful, sir," Alfred said. "In the future, it won't harm it, but it does make it a bit easier for me."

"Anything for you, Alfred," Dick said with a smile before ascending the steps to his room. He closed the door gently and shed his clothes again. The warm shower felt sublime as he mulled over his report that he would give to Bruce in the morning. He really didn't have to lie about anything, he thought, just omit how he obtained the information. He knew the Riddler was active and that he was working with someone, possibly another villain. That information alone would give Bruce confidence in his abilities and it promised both of them some excitement over the coming days. And the next time Dick met the Riddler, it wouldn't end so well for the green-clad jackass, he thought. 


	20. Repossession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment below if you're enjoying the story or not. I write for others, not necessarily myself. As prideful as it sounds, hearing feedback, both good and bad, is very helpful to a writer (which I'm really not, but still).

Bruce returned early the following afternoon. He found Dick training in the gym, fully clothed, which was something that surprised him and put a small smile on his face. He watched through the window for a bit before heading upstairs to unpack and get settled back in. He thought about interrupting, but knew that as soon as Dick spotted him, they'd be in the cave immediately going over his intel and Bruce wanted a few minutes at least to himself after he got home. He knew that the Riddler being back on the scene was urgent, as was apparently the fact he was working with some mysterious partner. But an extra 10 minutes wasn't going to make the difference. 

He descended the grand staircase about 20 minutes later, finding a sweaty Dick Grayson at the bottom. Dick beamed broadly at Bruce with a sort of "I told you so" expression. Bruce smirked in return and patted Dick's shoulder as he passed him, grimacing slightly at the sweat that was now transferred to his own hand. 

"If you think I'm going to sit next to you in the cave with you looking and smelling like that, think again. And while I'm sure you're about to set a new land speed record for showering, just make sure you clean properly," Bruce said, rather fatherly-like. 

Dick winked playfully and walked up the stairs. His calmness and the fact he wasn't running and didn't slam the door was almost unnerving. However, perhaps Dick was trying to show Bruce some maturity. He was past the halfway mark of being 16 now, so maybe this was Dick trying to act more grownup, especially after such a successful solo patrol. 

Bruce took his pole down to the cave and emerged dressed in his dark blue and gray spandex. Batman strode swiftly over to the computer, his broad muscles fully outlined. Sitting down he keyed a few commands, bringing up the full report from Robin's scanner the night before. He also brought up the line-by-line data read from his tracking device and began to highlight a few areas that he wanted clarification of. 

About 20 minutes later, 19 minutes longer than Bruce expected, he heard sliding and Robin appeared at the bottom of the pole, striding calmly towards him. Bruce looked at the smooth bare legs of his sidekick as he approached and admired, from a purely plutonic aspect, the firm muscle tone on display. Dick's efforts in the gym were clearly showing, and while still lean, he was slightly more defined. Bruce didn't think he'd ever bulk out, mostly due to his reliance and ability at gymnastics and agility. The more bulk, the harder that would make it. 

Dick sat down in the chair next to Bruce and swiveled around a full turn once before settling down. 

"So tell me about these," Bruce said, pointing a gloved finger at the time stamps where Robin's tracker went almost still. Dick looked casually at them, narrowing his masked eyes and pretending to examine them closely. 

"Yeah, that was when I encountered the Riddler, or at least, came upon his location," Dick said in a very practiced voice. 

"So, you corral the thugs here," he said, pointing to where the four thugs were taken down, "and then here you stop?" he asked. Dick scanned Bruce's voice for any hint of apprehension or suspicion, but it seemed to be genuine curiosity. 

"Yes, I got them subdued, thinking they were just small timers," Dick began truthfully. "Then I questioned one with the truth spray to see who he was working for and he said the Riddler. That's when I got his presumed location and put in the call to Gotham PD to pick them up," Dick said. 

"Why a 30 minute delay?" Bruce asked.

"Because if they showed up immediately, since the Riddler was supposedly quite close, I thought the sirens would scare him away," Dick replied, again truthfully.

Bruce pushed his lower lip up and nodded. "Not a bad thought," he said, slightly impressed. 

"I thought so," Dick replied casually. "So then," Dick immediately began his rehearsed story, "I found the Riddler with just two thugs, but instead of take him down, I decided just to observe."

"Why?"

"Because technically, apart from simply being the Riddler, he hadn't done anything wrong," Dick replied.

"But you took out those other four because they had a boss?" Bruce asked.

"That was instinct," Dick replied. "I wanted to observe the Riddler because if I knew details of what he was planning, then we might put him away for longer," Dick said. "So I overheard him talking about a hideout, although not exactly where, and that his partner would be very interested in what he'd learned."

"Learned about what?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know," Dick lied. "They left at that point and it was too far a throw for a tracking device," he added before Bruce could ask. 

Bruce leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly. 

"So it looks like we've got some investigating to do," Bruce said. "What direction did the truck go?"

"Not sure," Dick said. "It was a one-way alley but I lost it behind a building before it turned."

"Let's head to that alleyway and search for clues," Bruce said. The two left their chairs and climbed into the Batmobile. 

Several minutes later they pulled into the one-way alley and stopped. Climbing out, the Duo began to look up and around at the tall buildings around them. In the daylight, everything seemed quite normal and quiet. They strode towards where Robin had been knocked out and began to search. The pavement was still slightly damp from the rain so their scanners didn't pick up much. They reached the end of the alley where there was a door into one of the buildings but it had no handle on the outside. 

"Odd," Batman said. "They must've come from inside last night."

"Or someone opened it for them," Robin mused, genuinely curious himself. He ran a gloved hand over the seam but it seemed quite tight and his scanner couldn't penetrate the metal. "Should we find another entrance?" he asked.

"Good idea," Batman said. They turned around and headed back to the Batmobile. After they'd gone a few paces, they heard a sound and quickly turned around. The door had opened and a large man clad in a tight black shirt and jeans appeared. He froze when he saw the Dynamic Duo.

"Shit!" he yelled and disappeared. The door swung closed but Batman was too quick. In a blur of motion a batarang flew out of his hand and landed perfectly between the door and its frame as it closed. They ran to the door and were able to pry it open thanks to that.

"Impressive," Robin said quietly.

"Thanks," Batman said with a smirk. Batman moved inside with Robin close behind him, the door closing softly behind them. 

The warehouse was very dark but high windows let a little light through their dirty panes. It was relatively empty and they heard the feint footsteps of the man in the distance. Batman took off at a run with Robin following. They could see his shadowy figure disappear through a door at the far end. It was an open doorway and the Duo reached it seconds later. It was a short hallway leading to another doorway where there was light flooding out from the far room. The heroes slowed and reached that open doorway a bit cautiously. 

"Ah Batman! What a pleasant surprise!" said the Riddler. He was wearing his full spandex gear again and Robin quickly averted his gaze, looking instead at the thug they followed who was standing next to the Riddler looking worried. The room was an office that looked hardly used with little furniture. There were no papers or anything. In fact, it looked like it had been recently cleaned out and in a big hurry. 

Batman walked strongly towards the Riddler, his cape billowing behind him. Robin followed and Batman, without saying a word, grabbed two fist-fulls of the green spandex and slammed the Riddler against the wall hard. The thug looked surprised but before he could react, Robin grabbed his shoulder, turned him and clocked him, knocking him out cold. 

"Now that wasn't very nice," Riddler said to Robin. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Boy Wonder," he said, smiling broadly and very deliberately looking down at space where Robin's legs met. Robin's small bulge was visible in the tight briefs, as it always was, but it was soft. Robin curled a lip in anger as he saw the gaze, but Batman didn't seem to notice. 

"Who are you working with?" Batman growled. 

"What on earth do you mean?" Riddler asked, feigning innocence. It's just me and my sleepy friend here," he said, pointing at the unconscious goon. "That's assault and battery, by the way, Boy Wonder." Robin remained silent. 

"I'll ask you again, who are you working with?" Batman said, tightening his grip.

"Batman, my dear, I have done nothing wrong. You've trespassed on my property, assaulted my friend, and are assaulting me!" Riddler said. "Not very nice at all!"

"Spare me!" Batman said loudly. Robin was surprised at his temper, but then again, Batman had no patience for repeat super criminals like Riddler, Joker, and others. 

"I'm assuming young Robin here told you about his little adventure last night?" Riddler asked, raising an eyebrow. Robin's face went deep red. Thank goodness Batman didn't turn around. Robin's heart was pounding as the silence hung in the air. 

"Are you upset he took out some of your gang and was able to eavesdrop on you? Finding out you weren't working alone?" Batman asked, a touch of pride in his deep voice. The Riddler's face turned slowly to Robin, whose face was still burning. Robin's fists clenched hard, the sound of his leather gauntlet's fingers grinding together. The Riddler smiled slightly at Robin without looking at Batman.

"Yes," Riddler said, looking squarely at Robin. "That was quite the setback for me and also very enlightening as to your little boy's...talents," Riddler said, accentuating the words 'little' and 'talents'. Batman readjusted his grip and slammed the Riddler again. "Although, like I said," he continued, looking back at Batman, "I work alone. If I was working with someone, that would be quite frightening for you, wouldn't it?" Riddler said. "My talents with another's? My my..." he said. "Now unless you're going to charge me for something, I'd like to drag my friend out of here. We have law-abiding work to do."

Batman's grip held steady for a moment longer before he resigned himself to the fact that the Riddler was right. He released the spandex which instantly tightened again around the Riddler's well-developed frame. 

"Come on," Riddler said, kicking his goon. The goon groaned and slowly got to his feet, rubbing his cheek and giving Robin and deadly stare. Robin returned the favor to the much larger man than himself and the two walked out of the office, leaving the Duo alone. Batman sat down in the desk chair while Robin punched a fist into his other glove. 

"Legal loophole," he said, his composure back. Batman sighed in the silence. "Now what?" Robin asked. 

"We have to hope for a mistake," Batman replied. "And I'm sure he'll make one soon. Let's go."

The two left the office and made their way back into the dark, silent warehouse. They found the door they came through and opened it. The afternoon light was fading rapidly as they walked back into the empty alley. They froze. The alley was empty. 

"He took the Batmobile," Batman said in a low growl. "I forgot to deploy the decoy start button." Robin's face fell. He'd forgotten as well. Neither had anticipated this turn of events because they hadn't expected to leave the alley at all. Suddenly, though, Robin's face lit up with excitement. 

"This is perfect!" he cried. Batman looked sideways at him. "Well, not perfect, but almost," Robin said. "The Riddler isn't just going to drive it into the harbor," Robin said. "What good would that do him? He wants it for himself," Robin said, his masked eyes wide looking at Batman. Batman still looked confused, much to Robin's surprise. Robin smacked the Bat logo on his mentor's chest. "So we just track it to his hideout!" Robin said, accenting each word like he was talking to a child. Batman shook his head slightly, his world refocusing.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that!" Batman said.

"Well, you're pretty old," Robin said with a fake look of concern. 

"Shut it or you'll wind up in that dumpster," Batman replied. Robin knew it wasn't a total joke. 

Batman pulled out his radio and called Alfred who was in the cave. 

"Alfred, the Riddler took the Batmobile. We want to track it to his hideout," Batman said. 

"A good plan, sir!" Alfred responded, assuming they'd let it happen on purpose. 

"It was Robin's," Batman said with a smile. 

"It's moving quite fast, well past the legal limit I would say," Alfred said. "Wait a moment." The Duo waited in the darkening alley as Robin bounced on his boots. "Yes, it's stopped. About 2.7 miles from your current position. I'm sending the coordinates."

It was the most awkward taxi ride of Robin's life as the Duo headed towards the spot. The driver assumed they were cosplaying or something, but it was still odd. They had him stop a block away so as not to rouse suspicion. Now in the evening twilight, the Duo made their way down the street towards the building in question. It was an old factory just outside the warehouse district. 

"Classic hideout," Robin murmured before being shushed by Batman. There was a garage entrance off the main street which is where he must've taken the Batmobile, Batman guessed. Next to it was an access door. Batman tried the handle, which was locked, and then stooped down to pick it. It took a few seconds but the lock released and the door opened inward. The lights were on and the hallway was illuminated dimly. At the end of the hall were two doorways. One was open to the right but was dark. The other had a closed door but with light under the bottom. The Duo paused and listened. Robin thought he heard a sound to his right through the dark doorway, but dismissed it. Upon hearing the Riddler's laugh, Batman's nostrils flared and he kicked the door open. 

The room was decent sized, full of large wooden crates stacked in various sizes. The Riddler turned around. In the brief time they'd been apart, he'd changed his outfit to his suit. It was all green with black trim around the jacket, a black dress shirt, and a green tie with a big question mark on it. His pants were green as well and he had purple shoes on. A green and black bowler hat completed the ensemble. There were six thugs surrounding him. 

"Thanks for the ride, Batman," Riddler said. "Shocks could be better, but otherwise not bad!"

"Grand theft auto is a nice charge to start with," Batman said, standing tall and confidently. "And whatever else we find here."

"Boys, take care of Batman," Riddler said. "Leave Robin to me." 

Batman looked confused at the words and looked to his right where Robin was standing. Robin's glare was fire and he looked at Batman, smiled a smile of confidence Bruce had never seen before, and nodded. Bruce knew that Dick was more than a match for the Riddler, despite the Riddler being taller and more muscular. After he dispensed with him, he could assist him with the thugs. 

The thugs broke right, dodging behind stacks of crates as Batman charged into them, fists flying. Robin moved to his right, bouncing lightly on his pixie boots as the Riddler came at him. Riddler struck first, throwing a few token punches at Robin. He blocked them easily and, ducking the final blow, delivered two strong blows to the midsection of the villain. The Riddler stumbled backwards as Robin struck a fighting stance. He looked at Robin's briefs again, but the small bulge was unchanged. 

"Feeling ok?" the Riddler asked in the mayhem around them. "This isn't too 'hard' for you, is it?" he asked again. Robin smiled smugly at the Riddler's obvious intentions. Without the dignity of a response, he attacked again, his punches coming quickly and his dodging of the Riddler's counters even quicker. 

"Not bad for a little boy, emphasis on the little," the Riddler said, breathing a bit harder. Robin tried to remain calm, but even though he knew his boyhood wasn't anything to write home about, he'd be damned if the Riddler was going to mock him. He attacked again, a bit more wildly than before as his anger flared. The Riddler absorbed a few of the blows but underestimated their strength. He stumbled backwards and fell over a stack of crates. Robin put his hands on his narrow hips and smirked. 

"I see," the Riddler said, clearly agitated and getting back up. "We're playing for real this time," he said, raising his fists. Robin raised his own, oblivious to the fight going on behind him withe Batman and the six thugs. "Well, you can act all you want, Boy Wonder," the Riddler said, stepping over a broken crate, "but I know what you really want, what kind of boy you really are. I didn't want to believe what I'd heard about you because I didn't think it could possibly be true until last night. But that's ok," he continued, "because you're not the one I want."

The quick monologue by the Riddler confused Robin just enough for the Riddler to attack. A couple of blows knocked Robin off balance. He tried to counter but his swing was wide. The Riddler grabbed his right arm and swung him into the wall of the room by the door. Robin hit the wall with a thud and groaned. He came off the wall slowly as the Riddler attacked again, a few punches carefully placed that sent Robin flying in a different direction. Robin put his hands out reflexively to stop himself from running face first into the wall but there was no wall there. He went through the open doorway. The lack of a surface that he'd anticipated put him completely off balance and he fell through the dark open doorway across the hall, sliding on the smooth floor onto his back. He groaned as his vision went temporarily blurry in the darkness and pain. Above him, he could make out a dark figure standing over him, but before his vision came back into focus, his world went black. 

Back across the hallway, the six goons had finally turned the tables on Batman. He'd held his own for awhile but their numbers were too great and they were skilled fighters. He was now held by two thugs, one on each of his thick arms. Two more were behind him, holding him by his caped shoulders. The other two were working him over. His cowled head was hanging down onto his broad chest as the punishment continued. The Riddler turned away from the doorway and walked towards the dazed hero. 

"Wakey wakey Batman," he said, snapping his fingers in front of the downward facing eyes behind his cowl. Batman groaned as he slowly raised his head. His vision was also a bit blurry and he blinked hard, trying to focus. Then, when his eyes did, he nearly broke out of the grip of the four strong thugs that held him, but he was too weak and they were too strong. 

The Riddler was standing before him. Behind the Riddler, standing just inside the room in his trademark fur coat, was the Sandman. He was standing with his hand on Robin's caped shoulder. A small patch of white powder was under Robin's nose. The Boy Wonder stared straight ahead, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. 

"You were right, Batman," Riddler said giggling. "I was working with a partner. I was helping him rebuild his life after you destroyed it not too long ago. Obviously, getting him out of prison is the easy part, but rebuilding an empire, that takes time, and he needs building blocks. So I promised him that I'd get him one."

"I thank you for your generosity, Batman," the Sandman said in his accented voice. "Robin here will be a great asset to me in the future. And, as I'm sure you know, he'll be doing what he loves to do."

"You monsters! You maniacs!" Batman roared, struggling in vain. 

"Now now, Batman," Riddler said like he was trying to calm a small child. "He's not wrong. Your little Boy Wonder didn't tell you the truth about last night." 

Batman stared at the Riddler in slight confusion. 

"All in good time," the Riddler said. "In the meantime, we're going to have some fun, you and I. And who knows, if I decide not to kill you, perhaps I'll clue you in on your little boy toy over there," Riddler said. 

Batman struggled again furiously as Sandman nodded politely to the Riddler before walking Robin's smaller, lean body out of the room. 


End file.
